THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

IRVINE 

GIFT  OF 


MR.  CHARLES  KILMER 


^t^^^>o<'<ci^  Cc^exif   1<^^"'^^. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 


^»t.lU«J-^-liiL>li^l.lU-i 


ALEXANDRE  DUMAS//. 


rc, 


\'^' 


IZL 


NEW   YORK;     BRENTANO'S 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE 
GAMELIAS 


CHAPTER  I 

I  HAVE  always  considered  that,  to  create  imaginary 
personages,  one  must  have  deeply  studied  mankind  ; 
as,  in  order  to  speak  a  language,  it  is  necessary  to 
have  learned  it  with  care. 

Not  having  yet  attained  the  age  of  invention,  I 
content  myself  with  simple  narration. 

I  beg  the  reader,  therefore,  to  believe  in  the  reality 
of  the  present  story,  of  which  all  the  characters, 
except  the  heroine,  are  actually  living  at  this  moment. 

There  are  also,  in  Paris,  witnesses  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  facts  which  I  have  placed  on  record  ;  and 
their  testimony  can  be  added  to  my  own,  should  the 
latter  be  deemed  insufficient. 

Owing,  however,  to  an  accidental  and  personal 
circumstance,  I  am  the  only  possessor  of  the  essentials 
for  writing  this  narrative  ;  because,  to  me  alone 
were  confided  those  final  details,  without  which  it 
would  be  impossible  to  render  the  tale  either  inter- 
esting or  complete. 

These  details  reached  me  in  the  following  manner  : 

On  the  I2th  of  March,  1847,  in  passing  through 
the  Rue  de  Lafhtte,  I  observed  a  large  placard, 
announcing  a  grand  sale  of  furniture  and  effects  of  a 
rich  and  curious  description,  belonging  to  a  person 
lately   deceased.     The   placard   did   not   name  the 


6         THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

person  to  whom  tlie  property  had  belonged  ;  but 
announced  that  the  sale  would  take  place  at  No.  9, 
Rue  d'Antin,  on  the  i6th  instant,  from  twelve  until 
five  o'clock. 

It  was  further  stated,  that  the  articles  would  be 
"  on  view  "  at  the  above  address,  on  the  13th  and 
14th. 

I  have  always  been  an  amateur  of  curiosities  in 
furniture,  and  the  like,  and  I  resolved  not  to  lose 
this  opportunity,  if  not  of  buying,  at  least  of  examin- 
ing the  articles  thus  advertised. 

The  next  day  I  bent  my  steps  towards  No.  9, 
Rue  d'Antin. 

Although  it  was  still  early,  the  apartments  were 
already  filled  with  visitors,  both  male  and  female, 
who,  though  clad  in  velvet,  wrapped  in  cashmeres, 
and  with  costly  equipages  in  attendance  at  the  door, 
gazed  with  astonishment  and  admiration  upon  the 
luxury  and  magnificence  by  which  they  found  them- 
selves surrounded. 

I  soon  discovered,  however,  the  cause  of  some 
portion  of  the  astonishment  thus  manifested  ;  for, 
after  a  brief  inspection,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  ascer- 
taining that  the  apartments  had  belonged  to  one  of 
those  ladies  who  occupy  so  prominent  a  position 
in  the  gay  world  of  Paris  ;  and  whose  "  establish- 
ments," as  well  as  themselves,  are  under  the  main- 
tenance and  "  protection  "  of  some  gentleman  or 
gentlemen,  who  do  not  sustain  the  relation  of  either 
husband,  father,  or  brother,  to  the  fair  protegee. 

Now,  if  there  be  a  thing  in  the  world  which  the 
women  of  the  world — the  women  of  high  society — 
are  wild  with  curiosity  to  inspect,  it  is  the  internal 
arrangements  of  the  establishments  of  ladies  of  the 
class  above  named,  whose  dashing  equipages  daily 
jostle  their  own,  who  have  like  them,  and  side-by- 
side  with  them,  their  box  at  the  Opera  or  the  Theatre 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS    7 

Italien,  and  who  display  throughout  the  most  brilliant 
scenes  of  Paris,  the  insolent  opulence  of  their  beauty, 
their  jealousy,  and  their  intrigues. 

She  in  whose  house  we  stood,  was  dead.  The  most 
virtuous  women  could  therefore  penetrate  fearlessly 
to  her  very  bed-chamber.  Death  had  purified  the 
air  of  this  splendid  mansion  of  vice  ;  and  besides, 
there  was  the  excuse  (were  one  needful)  of  attending 
a  public  sale,  without  of  necessity  being  aware  to 
whom  the  house  had  belonged. 

They  had  read  the  advertisements,  and  were 
desirous  to  see  the  things  which  those  advertisements 
promised  and  to  make  choice  in  advance  of  such  as 
they  might  choose  to  buy.  Nothing  could  be  more 
simple  : — but  it  did  not  prevent  their  seeking  with 
eager  curiosity,  amid  these  marvels  of  luxurj^,  for 
the  mj^sterious  traces  of  that  private  life  of  the 
"  lady  under  protection,"  respecting  which  they  had 
heard  so  much,  and  conjectured  so  much  more. 

Unhappily  the  "  mystery,"  if  any  had  existed 
had  died  with  the  goddess  of  the  temple  ;  and 
despite  their  goodwill  thereto,  these  ladies  could 
detect  only  what  there  was  to  be  sold  since  the  death, 
and  nothing  of  what  might  have  been  purchasable 
during  the  life-time,  of  the  occupant. 

There  remained,  however,  ample  scope  for  pur- 
chases. The  furniture  was  superb.  Articles  in 
rosewood  and  buhl,  vases  of  Sevres  and  China, 
services  of  plate,  statuettes,  satins,  velvets,  laces — 
nothing  was  wanting. 

I  walked  through  the  apartments,  following  the 
noble  inquisitives  who  had  preceded  me.  They 
entered  an  apartment  with  hangings  of  Persian 
stuff,  and  I  was  on  the  point  of  entering  also,  when 
they  came  suddenly  out  again,  smiling  mysteriously, 
and  as  if  their  modesty  had  been  somewhat  shocked 
by  this  last  object  of  inspection.    This  only  increased 


8        THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

my  desire  to  penetrate  into  the  apartment.  I  did  so. 
It  was  a  dressing-room,  furnished  in  its  minutest 
details  ;  and  in  which  the  luxurious  prodigality  of 
the  deceased  seemed  to  have  attained  its  climax. 

Upon  a  large  table,  placed  against  the  wall — a 
table  some  six  feet  in  length  by  three  in  width — 
shone  all  the  treasures  of  Aucoc  and  of  Odist.  It 
was  a  magnificent  collection,  and  not  one  of  its 
innumerable  articles  of  any  baser  metal  than  silver 
and  gold.  Nevertheless,  this  collection  had  evidently 
been  made  by  degrees,  and  was  not  entirely  the 
gift  of  any  one  lover.  For  not  feeling  any  alarm  at 
the  sight  of  the  dressing-room  of  a  lady  of  a  certain 
character,  I  amused  myself  by  examining  all  its 
details  ;  and  I  soon  discovered  that  each  of  the  various 
and  richly  chased  articles  of  this  toilette  table  bore 
different  initials  and  arms. 

I  looked  upon  all  these  things,  each  of  which  seemed 
to  represent  a  separate  amour  of  their  unhappy 
possessor  ;  and  I  thought  to  myself  that  Heaven 
had  been  merciful  to  this  poor  girl,  in  not  dooming 
her  to  survive  to  incur  the  ordinary  penalty  of  such 
a  life,  but  had  allowed  her  to  die  in  the  midst  of  her 
luxury,  and  the  full  glow  of  her  beauty,  instead  of 
lingering  on,  to  encounter  old  age — that  first  and 
bitterest  death  of  the  courtesan. 

Indeed,  what  can  be  more  melancholy  to  behold, 
than  the  old  age  of  vice — above  all  in  a  woman  ? 
She  retains  no  dignity,  and  inspires  no  interest.  The 
eternal  repentance,  not  merely  of  the  bad  path 
followed,  but  the  calculations  ill-made,  and  the 
money  ill-employed,  must  be  an  unutterable  torture. 

I  once  knew  an  old  woman  of  the  class  described, 
to  whom  nothing  remained  of  the  past  but  a  daughter, 
as  beautiful  as  she  herself  had  been.  This  poor  child 
— to   whom  the  mother  had  said,   "  You  are  my 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS    9 

daughter,"  only  to  demand  for  her  own  old  age  the 
support  which  she  had  given  to  the  other's  infancy — 
this  poor  creature  was  called  Louise,  and,  obedient  to 
her  WTetched  mother,  she  yielded  herself  without 
will,  or  passion  or  pleasure,  to  the  prostitution  to 
which  the  former  had  trained  her  ;  as  she  would 
have  followed  any  other  calling  that  she  might  have 
been  taught. 

This  life  of  vice — precocious  vice, — fed  by  the 
sickly  condition  of  this  girl,  had  extinguished  in  her 
mind  any  sense  of  right  and  wrong  that  Heaven  might 
once  have  bestowed  ;  but  which  no  one  had  sought 
to  train  or  develop. 

I  shall  never  forget  this  girl, — who  made  her 
appearance  upon  the  Boulevards,  every  day,  at  the 
same  hour,  accompanied  by  her  mother,  who  watched 
her  with  as  much  assiduity  as  a  true  and  honest 
mother  could  have  done, — although  with  far  different 
motives. 

I  was  then  very  young,  and  but  too  ready  to  accept 
the  easy  morality  of  the  age  ;  but  I  well  remember, 
that  I  was  nevertheless  shocked  and  disgusted,  at 
this  unnatural  abuse  of  the  holiest  tie  of  natural 
affection. 

Add  to  this,  that  never  had  the  countenance  of  the 
purest  virgin  a  more  exquisite  expression  of  innocence, 
combined  with  that  of  sad,  but  patient  endurance, 
and  the  picture  is  complete. 

A  time  came,  however,  when  this  expression 
vanished,  and  the  countenance  of  this  young  girl 
brightened  with  joy. 

In  the  midst  of  her  dissipation  (of  which  the  mother 
regulated  the  programme  !),  it  appeared  to  the  poor 
sinner,  that  Heaven  allowed  her  yet  a  happiness. 

One  day,  in  fact,  she  discovered  that  she  was  in  the 
way  to  become  a  mother  ;  and  what  remained  of 
purity  in  her  nature,  thrilled  with  joy. 


10       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

The  soul  finds  strange  refuges  and  strange  con- 
solations ! 

Louise  hastened  to  announce  to  her  mother  the 
discovery  that  had  rendered  herself  so  happy. 

What  follows  is  shameful  to  tell,  and  although 
we  are  not  inventing  immoralities,  but  narrating 
facts,  it  were  perhaps  better  to  forbear  the  narration, 
were  it  not  that  we  believe  it  desirable,  sometimes,  to 
unveil  the  miseries  and  sufferings  of  these  poor  beings 
whom  we  are  too  apt  to  condemn  without  hearing, 
and  despise  without  inquiry.  It  is  shameful  and 
horrible, — but  the  mother  of  this  poor  child  replied  to 
her,  that  they  had  barely  the  means  of  living  for  two, 
and  certainly  not  enough  for  three  ;  that  children 
were  useless,  and  the  prolongation  of  the  condition 
in  which  she  then  was,  a  loss  of  time  ! 

The  next  day  an  old  woman,  whom  we  will  designate 
only  as  "  a  friend  of  the  mother,"  paid  a  visit  to 
Louise, — who  after  some  days  of  illness,  reappeared, 
pale  and  feeble. 

Some  three  months  afterwards,  a  benevolent  person, 
to  whom  these  facts  became  known,  interested  him- 
self for  Louise,  and  undertook  to  restore  her  to 
health,  both  morally  and  physically  ;  but  she  had 
sustained  too  severe  a  shock,  from  the  treatment  she 
had  received  ;  and  after  lingering  a  short  time,  she 
died. 

The  mother  still  lives.     How,  Heaven  only  knows  ! 

This  story  recurred  to  my  memory,  while  I  stood 
looking  at  these  toilet  fittings  of  gold  and  silver  ;— 
and  I  must  have  passed  some  time  in  thought,  for 
when  I  recovered  myself,  there  remained  only  myself 
and  one  of  the  men  in  charge,  who  watched  from  the 
door,  to  see  that  I  took  nothing  away. 

I  approached  this  worthy  man — to  whom  I  was 
evidently  an  object  of  grave  suspicion — ^and  said : 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       ii 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  Monsieur,  the  name  of  the 
person  who  lived  here  ?  " 

"  Mademoiselle  Marguerite  Gautier." 

I  had  known  this  girl,  by  name  and  by  sight. 

"  What  !  "  exclaimed  I,  "  Marguerite  Gautier 
is  dead  ?  " 

"  Three  weeks  since." 

"  And  why  are  these  things  on  view  ?  " 

"  The  creditors  think  that  such  a  course  will  increase 
the  proceeds  of  the  sale.  People  can  see,  in  advance, 
the  effect  produced  by  the  hangings  and  furniture, 
you  understand  ;  and  that  induces  them  to  buy." 

"  Creditors  ?     She  had  debts,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  a  great  many." 

"  But  the  sale  will  pay  them  ?  " 

"  And  much  more." 

"  To  whom,  then,  will  the  surplus  revert  ?  " 

"  To  her  family." 

"  Then  she  had  a  family  ?  " 

"  So  it  appears." 

I  thanked  the  man  for  his  politeness  ;  and  he, 
reassured  as  to  my  intentions,  saluted  me  respectfully 
and  I  departed. 

Poor  girl  !  thought  I,  as  I  returned  home,  she 
must  have  died  sadly  enough  ;  for  in  her  world  one 
has  friends  only  on  condition  of  being  well  and 
beautiful.  And,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  could  not  but 
feel  pity  for  the  fate  of  Marguerite  Gautier. 

There  may  be  many  to  whom  this  will  appear 
absurd,  or  affectedly  sentimental ;  but  I  have  a 
feeling  of  compassion  and  forbearance  for  these  poor 
creatures,  and  I  do  not  endeavour  to  suppress  it. 

One  day  in  going  to  the  prefecture  for  my  passport, 
T  observed  in  a  neighbouring  street  a  girl  of  the 
town  dragged  forward  by  two  gendarmes. 

I  do  not  know  what  she  had  done  ;  all  I  do  know 


12       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

is,  that  she  shed  bitter  tears,  while  embracing  a  poor 
little  infant,  of  some  few  months  old,  from  whom  she 
was  about  to  be  separated  by  her  arrest. 

The  girl  may  have  been  a  criminal,  but  she  had 
the  true  and  holy  feelings  of  a  mother. 

Since  then,  I  have  forborne  to  condemn  even  these 
women  at  first  sight,  or  as  a  thing  of  course. 


CHAPTER  II 

The  sale  was  fixed  for  the  i6th.  A  day's  interval 
was  allowed  between  the  time  for  inspection  and  the 
sale  itself  ;  that  the  upholsterers  might  remove  the 
carpets,  take  down  the  hangings,  and  make  the 
other  necessary  preparations. 

It  happened  that,  just  at  this  period,  I  had  returned 
from  a  tour  of  some  duration,  and  therefore  had  not 
heard  of  the  death  of  Marguerite  ;  and  it  was  natural 
enough  that  it  had  not  been  mentioned  to  me  among 
my  friends,  as  one  of  those  items  of  news  of  particular 
interest,  which  one's  friends  do  repeat  to  him  when 
newly  returned  to  the  great  centre  of  news. 

Marguerite  was  beautiful,  it  is  true  ;  but  great 
as  is  the  celebrity  acquired  by  the  life  of  such  women, 
very  little  is  heard  of  their  death.  They  are  suns 
which  set  as  they  rose,  unobserved.  It  is  only  their 
meridian  splendour  which  attracts  and  dazzles. 

When  they  die  young,  their  death  is  known 
simultaneously  to  all  their  lovers  ;  for  in  Paris  nearly 
all  the  lovers  of  such  a  woman  sustain  a  sort  of 
intimacy  with  each  other.  Some  few  remembrances 
of  the  deceased  are  perhaps  exchanged,  in  conversation 
among  them,  and  their  life  continues  its  course 
undisturbed  by  even  a  passing  tear  to  the  memory  of 
the  hapless  girl  with  whom  they  have  been  thus 
intimately  connected. 

At  the  mature  age  of  five-and-twenty  (for  that 
age  is  vastly  mature  in  the  precocious  atmosphere 
of  the  metropolis),  tears  become  a  thing  so  rare,  that 

13 


14       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

we  cannot  bestow  them  on  every  passing  occasion. 
It  is  enough  if  our  parents,  who  pay  for  being  wept 
for,  are  mourned  by  us  in  consideration  of  the  price 
which  they  give  in  the  shape  of  an  inheritance  ! 

As  to  myself,  however,  I  confess  that  although 
my  initials  were  not  to  be  found  upon  any  one  of  the 
decorations  of  Marguerite's  toilette,  that  instinctive 
indulgence,  that  natural  pity,  which  I  have  already 
avowed,  and  which  I  could  not  but  feel,  caused  me 
to  think  upon  her  death,  even  more,  perhaps,  than 
the  subject  demanded. 

I  remembered  having  often  met  Marguerite  in  the 
Champs  Elysees  (which  she  never  omitted  to  visit 
daily,  in  her  elegant  brougham,  drawn  by  two  superb 
bays)  ;  and  to  have  remarked  in  her  an  air  of  refine- 
ment and  distinction  exceedingly  rare  among  her 
class  ;  qualities  which  greatly  enhanced  a  beauty 
in  itself  almost  matchless. 

These  poor  girls,  when  they  go  out,  are  always 
accompanied  by  one  knows  not  whom. 

As  no  man  consents  thus  to  publish  the  secret 
of  his  nocturnal  amours, — and  as  they,  themselves, 
have  a  horror  of  being  alone, — they  always  take 
with  them  either  some  less  fortunate  companion  of 
their  own  class,  who  possesses  no  carriage,  or  one 
of  those  elderly  belles  whose  attractions  no  longer 
suggest  any  thought  of  rivalry,  and  to  whom  gentle- 
men can  address  themselves  unhesitatingly,  if 
desirous  to  obtain  any  particulars  (no  matter  of 
what  nature)  respecting  the  younger  beauty  whom 
they  accompany. 

But  Marguerite  formed  an  exception  to  this 
invariable  rule.  She  always  came  to  the  Champs 
Elys6es  alone  in  her  carriage, — in  which  she  displayed 
herself  as  little  as  possible  :  in  winter,  wrapped  in  a 
large  cashmere  ;  in  summer,  dressed  in  the  simplest 
manner  ;   and  although  she  necessarily  encountered 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       15 

in  her  favourite  resort,  many  gentlemen  whom  she 
knew,  if  perchance  she  recognised  one  of  them  by  a 
smile,  the  smile  was  visible  only  to  him  for  whom  it 
was  intended,  and  was  such  as  the  noblest  lady  might 
have  bestowed. 

Nor  did  she  drive  between  the  round  point  and 
the  entrance  of  the  Champs  Elys^es,  as  was  and  is  the 
practice  of  her  sisterhood — her  pair  of  horses  bore 
her  rapidly  to  the  wood.  There  she  would  descend 
from  the  carriage,  walk  about  for  an  hour,  enter  the 
vehicle  once  more,  and  return  to  her  own  house  at  the 
full  trot  of  her  splendid  animals. 

All  these  peculiarities  recurred  to  my  memory, 
and  I  regretted  the  death  of  this  girl  (such  an  ex- 
ception to  her  class,  and  so  rare  in  her  attractions) 
as  one  regrets  the  destruction  of  some  matchless 
work  of  art. 

In  fact  it  was  impossible  to  meet  with  greater 
perfection  of  beauty  than  was  realised  in  Marguerite. 

Tall,  and  at  the  same  time  slight  to  an  extreme, 
she  possessed,  in  a  superlative  degree,  the  art  of 
making  this  peculiarity  disappear,  or  appear  only 
as  an  attraction,  merely  by  the  exquisite  skill  with 
which  she  dressed. 

Her  cashmere,  the  point  of  which  reached  the 
ground,  allowed  the  escape  at  either  side  of  the  ample 
folds  of  her  dress  of  rich  silk  ;  and  the  rich  muff 
which  concealed  her  hands,  and  rested  upon  her 
chest,  was  surrounded  in  turn  by  drapery  so  skilfully 
disposed,  that  the  most  fastidious  eye  found  nothing 
to  require  in  the  contour  of  its  lines,  or  the  general 
effect  of  the  figure. 

Her  head,  a  marvel  in  itself,  was  singularly  graceful. 
It  was  very  small,  and  so  exquisitely  moulded,  that 
De  Musset  had  been  heard  to  say  that  her  mother 
must  have  taken  particular  pains  to  form  it  thus  ! 

In  a  face  of  the  most  faultless  oval,  place  black 


i6       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

eyes  of  unusual  brilliancy,  surmounted  by  brows 
so  perfectly  arched  that  they  seemed  as  if  pencilled  ; 
veil  these  eyes  with  lids  so  long  as  to  cast  a  shadow 
(when  drooping)  upon  the  rose-tint  of  the  cheeks  ; 
trace  a  nose  perfectly  chiselled,  straight  and  slender, 
with  nostrils  slightly  expanded  by  the  ardent 
aspirations  of  a  passionate  temperament,  and  a  mouth 
whose  lips  parted  gracefully  above  teeth  white  as 
milk  ;  tinge  the  complexion  with  that  ripe,  velvet 
down,  which  covers  the  peach  that  the  hand  of  man 
has  never  profaned  ;  and  you  may  imagine  the 
cnsemhle  of  that  exquisite  head. 

Her  hair,  lying  in  wavy  masses,  black  as  jet,  was 
parted  upon  the  forehead  in  two  large  bands,  and 
lost  itself  at  the  back  of  the  head,  while  giving  to 
view  the  tips  of  two  tiny  ears,  pendent  from  which 
sparkled  two  diamonds  of  the  value  of  four  or  five 
thousand  francs  each. 

How  it  was  that  her  passionate  life  should  have 
left  to  Marguerite  the  virgin-like— nay,  even  child- 
like— expression  which  characterised  her  countenance, 
is  what  we  can  only  state,  without  attempting  to 
explain,  or  pretending  to  understand  it. 

She  had  a  striking  portrait  of  herself,  painted  by 
Vidal,  the  only  artist  whose  pencil  could  have  repro- 
duced that  remarkable  countenance.  Since  her  death, 
I  have  had  that  portrait,  for  some  days,  in  my  charge, 
and  its  likeness  is  so  perfect,  that  it  has  recalled 
and  confirmed  any  details,  respecting  which  I  could 
not  entirely  rely  upon  my  own  memory. 

Some  of  the  particulars  described  in  this  chapter 
did  not  occur  to  me  till  afterwards  ;  but  I  have 
written  them  at  this  period,  as  essential  to  the 
character  of  Marguerite,  and  to  avoid  the  necessity  of 
interrupting,  hereafter,  the  regular  sequence  of  my 
narrative. 

Marguerite  made  a  point  of  witnessing  all  the 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       17 

"first  perfoi  nances  "  at  the  theatres,  and  passed 
nearly  all  her  evenings  at  the  theatre  or  in  the 
ball-room.  Wherever  a  new  piece  was  played,  she 
was  certain  to  be  seen,  with  three  things  that  were 
always  inseparable  from  her  presence  :  her  opera- 
glass,    packet    of    hon-lons,    and    A    bouquet    of 

CAMELIAS. 

Marguerite  was  never  known  to  have  any  other 
flowers  than  camelias  ;  and  eventually  she  came  to  be 
known  at  Madame  Barjon's  (the  florist's  where  she 
purchased  the  flowers),  and  subsequently  throughout 
Paris,  as  La  Dame  aux  Camelias, — "  the  Lady  with 
the  Camelias  ;  "  and  the  designation  became  per- 
manent. 

I  also  knew  (in  common  with  all  those  who  moved 
in  a  certain  circle,  in  Paris)  that  Marguerite  had  been 
the  mistress  of  certain  young  gentlemen  of  the 
highest  fashion  ;  that  she  avowed  it  openly,  and  that 
they  prided  themselves  upon  it : — two  things  which 
proved  that  lovers  and  mistress  were  equally  con- 
tented. 

Nevertheless,  for  about  three  years  past,  and 
subsequently  to  a  certain  visit  which  she  had  made  to 
Bagneres,  it  was  said  that  she  had  lived  exclusively 
with  an  aged  Duke,  a  foreigner,  of  great  wealth, 
who  had  sought  to  withdraw  her  as  far  as  possible 
from  her  former  life — an  endeavour  to  which,  it  was 
added,  she  had  appeared  to  yield  viith  cheerful- 
ness. 

The  following  is  what  was  currently  believed  on 
this  subject. 

In  the  spring  of  1842,  Marguerite  was  so  feeble 
and  so  altered  in  appearance,  that  the  physicians 
ordered  her  to  visit  the  waters  at  Bagneres. 

Among  the  invalids  at  that  place  was  the  daughter 
of  the  Duke  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  and  she  had 
not  only  the  same  malady  as  Marguerite,  but  the 


1 8   THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

same  countenance  ;  the  personal  resemblance  between 
the  two  being  so  strildng,  that  one  would  have  taken 
them  for  sisters.  The  young  Duchess,  however,  was 
in  the  last  stage  of  consumption  and  a  few  days 
after  the  arrival  of  Marguerite,  she  sank  under  the 
disease. 

One  morning  the  Duke,  who  lingered  at  Bagn^res, 
as  one  will  linger  around  the  spot  which  entombs 
his  dearest  affections,  encountered  Marguerite  in  one 
of  the  walks. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  met  the  shade  of  his 
departed  daughter,  and  going  up  to  Marguerite,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  the  old  man  clasped  both  her  hands, 
and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead  ;  and  without 
knowing  who  she  was,  implored  permission  to  visit 
her,  and  to  love  in  her  person  the  living  image  of  his 
lost  child. 

Marguerite,  alone  at  Bagneres  with  her  maid,  and 
having  besides  no  fears  as  to  compromising  herself, 
accorded  unhesitatingly  what  the  poor  Duke  desired. 

There  were,  however,  at  Bagneres  certain  people 
to  whom  Marguerite  was  known,  and  who  made  it 
their  business  forthwith  to  inform  the  Duke  of  the 
true  position  of  "  Mademoiselle  Gautier." 

This  was  a  sad  shock  to  the  old  man,  for  there  the 
resemblance  to  his  daughter  was  at  an  end  ;  but  the 
warning  came  too  late.  The  young  girl's  society  had 
become  a  necessity  of  his  heart  ;  his  only  inducement 
to  continue  to  live. 

He  did  not  reproach  her  ;  indeed,  he  had  no  right 
to  do  so  ;  but  he  demanded  of  her  if  she  felt  herself 
capable  of  changing  her  mode  of  life,  offering  in 
exchange  for  this  sacrifice  all  the  compensation  that 
she  could  desire. 

She  promised  to  do  as  he  desired. 

It  must  be  observed  that  at  this  epoch  Marguerite 
— by   nature   impulsive   and   enthusiastic — was  an 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       19 

invalid.  The  manner  of  her  past  life  appeared  tc 
her  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  her  malady  ; 
and  a  sort  of  superstition  caused  her  to  hope  that 
Providence  would  leave  to  her  her  health  and  her 
beauty  in  exchange  for  her  repentance  and  reforma- 
tion. 

And  in  fact  the  waters,  the  exercise,  and  the  life 
of  repose  which  she  led,  had  almost  entirely  re- 
established her  health  by  the  end  of  the  summer. 

The  Duke  accompanied  her  to  Paris,  where  he 
continued  to  visit  her  daily,  as  at  Bagneres. 

This  connection,  of  which  the  true  nature  and 
origin  were  not  understood  by  the  public,  caused  a 
great  sensation  here  ;  and  the  Duke,  already  famous 
for  his  immense  fortune,  began  to  acquire  an  equal 
notoriety  for  his  supposed  prodigality. 

The  charitable  public  attributed  to  libertinism — 
a  vice  but  too  common,  among  even  old  men — this 
intimacy  between  the  aged  Duke  and  the  young 
girl.  In  fact,  people  imagined  everything  to  be, 
except  that  which  was. 

In  real  truth,  the  feelings  which  the  bereaved 
father  entertained  towards  Marguerite  had  their 
origin  in  a  sentiment  so  pure  and  holy,  that  any  other 
intimacy  with  her  than  that  of  mere  affection,  would 
have  seemed  to  him  unnatural  and  impious  ;  and 
he  had  never  addressed  to  her  a  single  word  which 
his  own  daughter  might  not  have  heard. 

It  is  far  from  my  intention  to  make  of  our  heroine 
anything  else  than  she  really  was.  Let  us  say, 
therefore,  that  so  long  as  she  was  at  Bagneres, 
leading  the  quiet  life  of  the  country,  and  under  the 
restrictions  of  medical  regimen,  her  promise  was  not 
difficult  to  keep,  and  she  had  kept  it  faithfully.  But 
once  again  in  Paris,  it  began  to  seem  to  this  young 
girl, — accustomed  for  years  to  a  life  of  dissipation, 
with  nightly  visits  to  the  theatre  and  the  ball-room, 


20       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

— that  her  solitude,  disturbed  only  by  the  periodical 
visits  of  the  Duke,  would  soon  kill  her  with  weariness 
and  ennui  ;  and  the  burning  breath  of  her  former 
life  passed  from  time  to  time  over  her  cheek  and  her 
heart,  arousing  turbulent  and  restless  emotions. 

Add  to  this,  that  Marguerite  had  returned  from 
her  excursion  more  beautiful  than  she  had  ever  been, 
that  she  was  scarcely  twenty,  and  that  her  malady, 
dormant  but  not  extinct,  continued  to  awaken  in  her 
those  restless  and  feverish  desires,  which  are  almost 
always  the  concomitants  of  pulmonary  affections, 
and  it  will  be  obvious  how  difficult  Marguerite  must 
have  found  it  to  persevere  in  a  life  of  strict  quiet  and 
seclusion. 

The  poor  Duke  had  therefore,  one  day,  a  sad  trial 
to  undergo,  when  his  kind  friends  (or  the  kind  friends 
of  his  great  wealth,  who  had  been  incessantly  on  the 
watch  for  the  slightest  circumstance  that  could  com- 
promise poor  Marguerite)  came  to  inform  him,  and 
offer  to  prove  to  him,  that  at  certain  hours,  when  she 
was  assured  of  his  absence,  she  recc  ived  other  visitors, 
and  that  those  visitors  sometimes  prolonged  their 
stay  until  the  following  morning. 

Being  questioned  on  this  subject  Marguerite  had 
the  candour  and  courage  to  avow  everything  to  the 
Duke,  and  counsel  him  to  cease  to  trouble  himself 
about  her  ;  for  that  she  had  found  herself  unequal 
to  the  task  of  self-denial  and  life  of  dulness  which  she 
had  undertaken,  and  would  not  continue  to  receive 
benefits  from  one,  her  engagements  with  whom  she 
could  not  observe. 

The  Duke  went  away  accordingly,  nor  did  he 
appear  again  for  a  week  ;  but  that  was  the  extent 
of  his  power  of  self-denial  ;  for  on  the  eighth  day 
he  returned,  to  beg  leave  to  resume  his  visits  ; 
consenting  to  take  Marguerite  as  she  was,  provided 
only  that  he  might  continue  to  see  her  ;    and  pro- 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  C AMELIAS       21 

mising  under  no  circumstances  to  trouble  her  with 
reproaches. 

Such  was  the  position  of  affairs  three  months  after 
the  return  of  Marguerite  from  Bagneres  ;  that  is 
to  say,  about  the  month  of  November  or  December, 
1842. 


CHAPTER  III 

On  the  i6th  of  March,  therefore,  I  repaired  to  the 
Rue  d'Antin.    It  was  the  day  of  the  sale. 

On  entering  the  outer  door,  the  voice  of  the 
auctioneer  was  plainly  audible.  The  sale  was  in 
progress. 

The  apartment  was  crowded.  Among  the  crowd 
were,  of  course,  all  the  "celebrities"  of  elegant 
vice, — somewhat  scornfully  regarded  by  a  consider- 
able number  of  fashionable  ladies,  who  had  again 
availed  themselves  of  the  pretext  of  a  public  sale, 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  coming  into  actual  prox- 
imity with  females  whom  they  could  not  meet 
otherwise,  and  whose  easy  and  untrammelled  lives, 
perhaps,  some  of  them  in  secret  envied,  while 
despising. 

The  stately  Duchess  of  F stood  side  by  side 

with  Mademoiselle  A ,  one  of  the  saddest  examples 

of  the  modern  Apasia.     The  Marchioness  of  T 

hesitated  in  buying  an  article,  for  which  she  had  a 
competitor  in  Madame  D ,  the  most  noted  faith- 
less wife,  as  well  as  the  most  elegant,  of  our  day. 

The  Duke  of  Y (who  is  believed  at  Paris  to  be 

ruining  himself  in  Madrid,  and  declared  in  Madrid  to 
be  ruining  himself  at  Paris,  while  in  fact  he  does 
not  spend  even  his  income  in  both  places),  while 
talking  with  Madame  M ,  one  of  our  most  charm- 
ing female  novelists,  is  actually  exchanging  glances 

at  the  same   moment   with   Madame   N ,  that 

lovely  frequenter  of  the  Champs  Elysees,  where  she 

22 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       23 

appears  always  dressed  either  in  pink  or  blue  ;  with 
her  carriage  drawn  by  a  pair  of  matchless  black 
horses,  which  Tony  sold  to  her  for  10,000  francs, 
and  for  which  she — has  paid  him.  And  finally, 
Mademoiselle  R— — 1, — who  has  made  herself,  by 
her  talents  alone,  twice  the  position  which  these 
great  ladies  acquire  by  their  dowries,  and  three 
times  that  which  the  others  have  achieved  by  their 
amours, — had  come,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  to  make  some 
purchases  ;  and  she  was  certainly,  in  herself,  by 
no  means  the  slightest  object  of  attention  and 
curiosity. 

We  could  cite  many  more  initials  of  well-known 
persons  assembled  in  those  saloons — and  not  a  little 
amazed  to  find  themselves  together — but  the  fore- 
going show  the  character  of  the  assemblage,  and  how 
numerous  and  various  a  congregation  were  attracted 
by  the  celebrity  of  the  deceased.  Every  one  was  gay 
and  lively  ;  and  although  many  were  present  who 
had  known  the  departed  well,  no  one  appeared  to 
give  even  a  thought  to  her  memory. 

The  laughter  was  loud  ;  the  auctioneer  bawled 
enough  to  split  one's  head  ;  the  tradesmen  who  had 
secured  benches  around  the  table,  and  who  "  meant 
business,"  endeavoured  in  vain  to  obtain  silence  for 
transacting  it :  never  was  an  assembly  more  varied, 
more  gay,  or  more  noisy. 

I  took  my  way  quietly  amid  this  tumult,  which 
seemed  to  me  saddening  when  I  reflected  that  it  was 
taking  place  at  the  very  threshold  of  the  chamber 
where  the  poor  creature  had  so  recently  expired, 
whose  property  they  were  now  selling  off  to  pay  her 
debts. 

Having  come  to  examine  rather  than  to  buy,  I 
studied  the  faces  of  the  tradesmen  for  whose  benefit 
the  sale  was  taking  place,  and  whose  features 
brightened  and  expanded  every  time  that  any  article 


24       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

realised  a  higher  price  than  they  had  dared  to 
hope. 

Worthy  and  respectable  souls,  who  had  literally 
speculated  upon  the  prostitution  of  this  girl — who  had 
gained  more  than  cent,  per  cent,  by  their  dealings 
with  her — who  had  disturbed  with  their  "  stamped 
papers  "  the  last  moments  of  her  wretched  life, 
and  who  now  came,  after  her  death,  to  reap  the 
fruits  of  their  honourable  speculations,  and  the 
interest  accruing  upon  the  no  less  honourable  "  credit" 
which  they  had  given  ! 

How  just  was  the  faith  of  the  ancients,  who 
accorded  but  one  and  the  same  deity  to  shopkeepers 
and  thieves  ! 

Dresses,  shawls,  jewellery,  were  being  sold  with 
incredible  rapidity.  Nothing  of  that  kind,  however, 
suited  me,  and  I  waited  patiently.  Presently  the 
auctioneer  cried — 

"  A  volume  beautifully  bound,  with  gilt  edges, 
entitled  '  Manon  Lescaut,'  There  is  something 
written  upon  the  first  page.  Ten  francs  are  de- 
manded," 

"  Twelve  1  "  said  a  voice,  after  a  long  pause. 

"  Fifteen  !  "  said  I. 

But  why  ?  I  knew  nothing  of  the  book.  Doubtless 
on  account  of  the  "  something  written  on  the  first 
page." 

"  Fifteen  !  "  cried  the  auctioneer, 

"  Thirty  !  "  said  the  original  bidder,  in  a  tone 
which  seemed  to  defy  competition. 

This  looked  like  a  contest, 

"  Thirty-five  !  "  said  I,  therefore,  in  a  tone  as 
defiant  as  that  of  my  antagonist. 

"Forty!" 

"  Fifty  !  " 

"  Sixty  !  " 

"  A  hundred  1  "  said  I,  resolutely. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       25 

Had  I  sought  to  produce  an  effect,  I  might  have 
been  proud  of  that  which  was  the  result  of  the 
bidding;  for  a  perfect  silence  followed  it,  and  the 
spectators  regarded  with  curiosity  a  person  that 
seemed  so  resolute  in  his  purpose  of  possessing  this 
volume. 

It  would  appear  that  the  expression  given  to  my 
last  bidding  had  "  convinced  "  my  antagonist,  and 
that  he  chose  to  abandon  the  contest  ;  for,  bowing  to 
me,  he  was  pleased  to  say,  although  rather  late  in  the 
day: 

"  I  surrender.  Monsieur," 

No  one  else  having  interfered,  the  book  was 
necessarily  adjudged  to  me. 

This  being  settled,  and  fearing  that  some  fresh 
feeling  of  rivalry  might  tempt  me  to  some  similar 
piece  of  extravagance  (which,  however  gratifying 
to  my  vanity,  was  anything  but  suitable  to  the  state 
of  my  purse),  I  gave  my  address  to  the  auctioneer's 
clerk,  and  departed,  I  ought  perhaps  to  have  bestowed 
some  consideration  upon  those  persons  who,  having 
witnessed  this  scene,  were  no  doubt  asking  them- 
selves what  purpose  could  have  led  me  to  pay  100 
francs  for  a  book  which  I  could  have  obtained  any- 
where for  a  tenth  of  the  sum.  But  I  gave  little 
thought  to  them,  or  their  conjectures. 

An  hour  or  two  afterwards  I  sent  to  take  possession 
of  my  purchase. 

Upon  the  blank  leaf,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
volume,  was  written  in  an  elegant  hand,  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  giver  of  the  book,  consisting  of  these 
words : 

"  Manon  d  Marguerite.  —  Humility.  —  Signed, 
Armand  Duval." 

What  signified  this  word  "  humility  "? 

Did    Manon    Lescaut   recognise   in    Marguerite — 


26      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

according  to  the  estimate  of  M.  Armand  Duval — 
a  superiority  of  dissipation,  or  a  superiority  of 
feeling,  that  should  impose  humility  upon  the 
latter  ? 

The  second  interpretation  was  the  most  probable, 
because  the  first  would  have  been  a  sheer  im- 
pertinence which  Marguerite  would  never  have 
tolerated. 

I  left  town  again,  however,  and  thought  no  more 
of  the  matter  for  the  time  being. 

Manon  Lescaut  is  a  touching  narrative,  no  detail 
of  which  is  unknown  to  me  ;  but,  nevertheless, 
whenever  I  find  the  volume  under  my  hand,  I  am 
always  attracted  towards  it  by  sympathies  ;  and  for 
the  hundredth  time  I  share  again  in  the  life  of  this 
heroine  of  the  Abbe  Provost. 

Now  this  heroine  is  so  life-like  that  I  seem  actually 
to  have  known  her  ;  and  that  sort  of  comparison 
instituted  between  her  and  Marguerite  gave  a  fresh 
attraction  to  my  re-perusal  of  the  work  ;  and  my 
lenient  consideration  was  augmented  by  pity,  and 
almost  by  affection,  for  the  poor  girl  from  whose 
effects  this  volume  had  come  into  my  hands. 

Manon  had  died  in  a  desert,  it  is  true,  but  in  the 
arms  of  the  man  who  had  loved  her  with  his  whole 
soul ;  and  who,  when  she  was  dead,  dug  a  grave  for  her 
with  his  own  hands,  watered  it  with  his  tears,  and  then 
enshrouded,  as  it  were,  his  own  heart ;  while  Mar- 
guerite, a  sinner  like  Manon,  and  perhaps  like  her 
reformed,  died  in  the  midst  of  luxury  (if  I  could 
believe  what  I  had  seen),  and  in  the  very  chamber 
devoted  to  her  former  life  ;  but  not  the  less  in  the 
midst  of  a  desert  of  the  heart,  far  more  arid,  far 
more  vast,  and  far  more  pitiless,  than  that  in  which 
Manon  had  been  entombed. 

Indeed,  Marguerite,  as  I  had  learned  from  those 
who  knew,  had  found  not  one  consolation  to  cheer 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       27 

her  dying  bed  during  the  two  long  months  through 
which  her  lingering  agony  had  been  protracted. 

From  Manon  and  from  Marguerite  my  thoughts 
could  not  but  turn  towards  those  whom  I  knew,  and 
whom  I  could  see  hurrying  recklessly,  blindly,  and 
actually  with  songs  upon  their  lips,  towards  an 
inevitable  death  of  wretchedness  and  neglect. 

Poor  creatures  !  if  it  be  wrong  to  love  them,  it  is 
certainly  not  less  so  to  pity  them.  We  pity  the  blind, 
who  have  never  seen  the  light  of  day  ;  the  deaf,  who 
have  never  listened  to  the  harmonies  of  nature  ; 
the  dumb,  who  have  never  been  permitted  to  give 
utterance  to  the  feelings  of  their  soul ; — and  yet, 
under  a  false  pretence  of  delicacy,  we  are  forbidden 
to  pity  that  blindness  of  the  heart,  that  deafness  of 
the  soul,  that  dumbness  of  the  conscience,  which 
maddens  and  benumbs  these  unhappy  beings, 
and  renders  them  incapable  of  seeing  and  re- 
cognising their  true  good,  of  hearing  the  voice  of 
God,  or  of  speaking  the  pure  language  of  faith  and 
love. 

Victor  Hugo  has  created  Marion  Delorme  ;  De 
Musset  has  called  Bornerette  into  being  ;  Dumas  has 
described  Fernande.  The  thinkers  and  the  poets 
of  all  past  time  have  given  to  this  unhappy  class  the 
offering  of  their  sympathy  and  their  indulgent 
consideration  ;  and  occasionally  some  great  man  has 
restored  one  of  them  to  existence  by  the  bestowal 
of  his  affection,  and  even  his  name. 

If  I  insist  thus  upon  this  point,  it  is  because  among 
those  who  may  chance  to  read  my  narrative  many 
are  prepared  beforehand  to  throw  aside  and  con- 
demn a  book,  in  which  they  expect  to  find  an 
apology  for  vice,  and  even  for  prostitution  ; — the 
author's  years  contributing,  no  doubt,  to  this  appre- 
hension. 

Those  who  think  thus  are  mistaken  ;  and  if  only 


28       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

this  apprehension  deters  them,  they  may  proceed 
with  the  perusal  of  the  book  without  fear. 

I  am  honestly  convinced  of  this  :  that  to  the  woman 
to  whom  education  has  not  taught  the  sense  of  right, 
the  kindness  of  Providence  opens,  almost  always, 
two  paths  which  lead  thither :  and  those  paths  are 
Suffering  and  Love. 

These  paths  are  difficult.  Those  who  tread  them 
must  do  so  with  bleeding  feet,  and  wounded  hands  ; 
but  they  leave,  nevertheless,  upon  the  thorns  of  the 
pathwaj^  the  gauds  and  decorations  of  vice,  and 
reach  the  goal  in  that  state  of  nakedness,  for  which 
they  need  not  blush  before  their  Saviour. 

Those  who  encounter  these  courageous  travellers 
are  bound  to  assist  them,  and  to  declare  that  they 
have  encountered  them  ;  for  in  publishing  this  fact 
they  point  out  the  road  to  others. 

One  is  not  called  upon  merely  to  place,  as  it  were, 
.at  the  outset  of  the  road  of  life  two  guide  posts,  in- 
scribed respectively,  "  The  good  road,"  and  "  The  had 
road'*  and  to  say  to  those  who  present  themselves, 
"  Choose ! "  but  we  should,  like  the  Saviour,  show 
the  paths  which  lead  from  the  second  road  to  the 
first,  to  those  who  are  being  tempted  by  the  way  ; 
and,  above  all,  should  avoid  giving  to  these  paths 
an  aspect  too  sombre  or  too  inaccessible. 

Christianity  is  before  us,  with  its  marvellous 
parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  to  teach  us  clemency 
and  forbearance.  Christ  Himself  was  full  of  love  for 
souls  wounded  by  human  passions,  whose  wounds 
He  rejoiced  to  heal  by  pouring  into  them  the  balm 
extracted  from  the  wounds  themselves. 

Thus  said  He  to  Magdalen,  "  Because  thou  hast 
loved  much  unto  thee  shall  much  be  forgiven  ;  " — a 
sublimity  of  forgiveness  which  must  have  enkindled 
a  faith  no  loss  sublime. 

Should  we  be  more  strict  than  the  Saviour  ?    Why 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       29 

should  we,  in  holding  to  the  opinions  of  this  world, 
which  makes  itself  harsh  that  it  may  seem  strong, 
repulse  those  bleeding  souls,  from  vdiose  wounds  full 
often  is  poured  out  the  evil  of  their  past  life,  and  who 
need  only  the  touch  of  a  friendly  hand  to  be  restored 
and  healed  ? 

It  is  to  my  own  generation  that  I  address  myself. 
To  those  for  whom  the  theories  of  Voltaire  no  longer 
exist — ^to  those  who,  like  myself,  realise  the  fact  that 
within  the  last  fifteen  years  humanity  has  made  one 
of  its  most  daring  forward  strides. 

The  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  is  acquired,  once 
and  for  ever.  Belief  reconstructs  itself.  The  respect 
for  hoi}'  things  is  restored  to  us  ;  and  if  the  world 
has  not  altogether  reformed  itself,  it  has,  at  least, 
made  itself  much  better. 

The  efforts  of  all  men  of  intellect  tend  to  the  same 
end  ;  and  all  great  minds  hold  to  the  same  principle 
and  purpose  :  "  Let  us  be  virtuous  !  let  us  be  child- 
like !  let  us  be  truthful  !  Evil  is  vain  and  false  ;  let 
us  have  the  pride  of  virtue  ;  and,  above  all,  let  us 
never  despair  of  our  race.  Let  us  not  despise  even 
the  woman  who  is  neither  Mother,  nor  Sister,  nor 
Daughter,  nor  Wife.  Let  us  not  restrict  our  esteem 
to  cur  family,  nor  reduce  our  lenience  to  mere 
egotism.  Since  '  there  is  more  joy  in  heaven  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth,  than  over  ninety-nine  just 
persons  who  need  no  repentance,'  let  us  endeavour 
to  create  such  rejoicing  on  high.  It  will  be  rendered 
to  us  again  with  usury.  Let  us  leave  upon  our 
road  the  alms  of  our  indulgence  for  those  whom 
earthly  desires  have  tem.pted  astray,  but  who 
mav  yet  be  saved  by  the  enkindling  of  a  celestial 
hope." 

Certainly  it  must  appear  bold,  and  even  presumptu- 
ous, for  me  to  speak  of  evolving  such  grand  results 
from  the  unimportant  subject  of  this  little  work ; 


30       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

but  I  am  of  those  who  believe  that  the  little  contains 
the  germ  of  the  great,  as  the  acorn  encloses  the  oak. 
The  infant  is  small,  yet  the  man  is  there  contained  ; 
the  brain  is  confined  in  narrow  limits,  yet  it  develops 
thought ;  the  eye  is  but  a  point,  yet  it  grasps  the  vast- 
ness  of  space. 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  sale  lasted  for  two  days,  and  produced  no  less 
than  150,000  francs  (£6,000). 

The  creditors  had  divided  two-thirds  of  this  among 
themselves,  and  the  relatives  of  Marguerite  (a  sister 
and  a  little  nephew)  had  inherited  the  remainder. 

This  sister  opened  her  eyes  when  the  notary  wrote 
to  inform  her  that  she  had  succeeded  to  a  fortune 
of  50,000  francs. 

For  seven  years  this  person  had  seen  nothing  of 
Marguerite,  who  had  suddenly  disappeared  one  day  ; 
nor  had  the  sister,  or  any  one  else  of  her  former 
acquaintances,  heard  or  known  anything  of  Mar- 
guerite's life  or  history  from  the  moment  of  her 
disappearance. 

The  sister  had  been  summoned  to  Paris  to  receive 
her  inheritance,  and  great  was  the  astonishment  of 
Marguerite's  acquaintances  to  see  in  her  only  relative 
a  big,  rosy  country  girl,  the  quintessence  of  rusticity, 
who  until  that  hour  had  never  quitted  her  native 
village. 

Her  fortune,  however,  was  made  at  one  stroke, 
without  her  even  knowing  whence  came  this  unex- 
pected good-luck. 

She  returned  speedily  (as  I  was  afterwards  told) 
to  the  country,  in  grief  for  her  sister's  death  ;  but 
somewhat  consoled  by  the  investment  in  four-and- 
half  per  cents,  which  she  made  before  her  departure. 

All  these  circumstances,  after  due  repetition 
throughout  Paris — ^that  great  mother-city  of  scandal 

3' 


32       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

— had  begun  to  be  forgotten,  and  I  also  had  begun  to 
forget  the  interest  v^^hich  I  had  taken  in  the  matter, 
when  a  new  incident  brought  to  my  knowledge  the 
entire  history  of  Marguerite,  and  made  me  acquainted 
with  details  so  touching  as  to  inspire  me  with  the 
desire  of  writing  this  narrative,  and  I  have  written  it 
accordingly. 

One  morning  there  was  a  ring  at  the  door  of  my 
apartment. 

My  servant,  or  rather  the  porter  of  the  house,  who 
officiated  also  as  my  servant,  went  to  the  door,  and 
returned  bringing  me  a  card,  and  informing  me 
that  the  person  from  whom  he  had  received  it 
desired  to  speak  with  me. 

I  glanced  at  the  card,  and  read  upon  it  these 
two  words — 

Armand  Duval. 

I  endeavoured  to  remember  where  I  had  seen  this 
name  before,  and  soon  recollected  the  fly-leaf  of 
the  volume  of  Manon  Lescauf. 

What  could  the  person  who  had  given  this  book 
to  Marguerite  possibly  want  with  me?  I  desired, 
however,  that  he  might  be  shown  in  immediately. 

There  entered  a  tall,  pale  young  man,  dressed 
in  a  travelling  costume,  which  he  seemed  not  to  have 
changed  for  some  days,  nor  even  to  have  taken  the 
thought  to  brush  since  his  arrival  in  Paris,  for  it 
was  covered  with  dust. 

M.  Duval  made  no  effort  to  conceal  the  deep  emotion 
under  which  he  laboured,  and  it  was  with  tears  in 
his  eyes  that  he  said  to  me — 

"  Monsieur,  I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  visit  and 
my  dress  ;  for,  besides  the  fact  that  young  men  are 
not  generally  exacting  among  themselves  on  these 
points,  I  was  so  anxious  to  see  you  immediately, 
that  I  have  not  even  spared  time  to  visit  the  hotel 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       33 

where  I  have  secured  apartments,  but  have  come 
directly  to  you,  fearing,  despite  the  early  hour,  that 
you  might  be  gone  out  before  my  arrival." 

I  begged  M.  Duval  to  take  a  seat  near  the  fire, 
which  he  did,  while  taking  from  his  pocket  a  hand- 
kerchief, which  he  pressed  to  his  eyes, 

"  You  must  be  at  a  loss  to  understand,"  continued 
he,  smiling  sadly,  "  for  what  an  unknown  visitor 
seeks  you  at  such  an  hour,  in  such  a  garb,  and  weeping 
in  so  childish  a  manner.  But,  in  grief  I  come.  Mon- 
sieur, to  ask  a  great  service  at  your  hands." 

"  Pray,  speak,  Monsieur;  I  shall  be  glad  if  I  can 
serve  you." 

"  You  attended  the  sale  of  the  effects  of  Mar- 
guerite Gautier,  I  believe  ?  " 

At  mention  of  this  name  the  emotion  of  the  young 
man  became  too  powerful  for  suppression,  and  he 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands  in  an  uncontrollable 
burst  of  grief. 

"  I  fear,"  continued  he,  "  that  it  must  appear 
almost  ridiculous  in  your  eyes  ;  but  I  can  only  pray 
you  to  excuse  me,  and  assure  you  that  I  shall  never 
forget  the  patience  with  which  you  have  given  me 
your  attention." 

"  Monsieur,"  I  replied,  "  if  the  service  which  it 
appears  that  I  may  be  able  to  render  you  can  in  any 
degree  assuage  the  suffering  which  you  experience, 
tell  me  at  once,  I  pray  you,  in  what  way  I  can  be 
useful  to  you,  and  I  shall  be  truly  happy  to  meet  your 
wishes." 

The  grief  of  the  young  man  was  contagious,  and 
involuntarily  I  felt  a  desire  to  befriend  him. 

He  said  to  me,  therefore,  "  You  purchased  some- 
thing at  Marguerite  Gautier's  sale  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  book." 

"  Manon  Lescaut  ?  " 

"  Precisely." 


34      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Have  you  the  book  still  ?  " 

"  It  is  in  my  bed-room." 

M.  Armand  Duval  appeared  much  relieved  at  this 
announcement,  and  thanked  me,  as  if  I  had  already 
begun  to  serve  him  by  preserving  this  book. 

I  went  into  the  inner  room,  obtained  the  book,  and 
handed  it  to  him. 

"  This  is  indeed  it,"  exclaimed  he,  as  he  examined 
the  inscription  and  turned  over  the  leaves. 

Two  large  tears  fell  from  his  eyes  upon  the  pages. 

"  And  pray.  Sir,"  said  he,  raising  his  head  again, 
and  not  endeavouring  to  conceal  that  he  had  been 
weeping,  and  was  ready  to  weep  again, — "  Pray, 
sir,  do  you  attach  much  value  to  this  book  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  I  wish  to  beg  you  to  let  me  have  it." 

"  Pardon  my  curiosity,"  returned  I,  "  but  it  was 
you,  then,  who  gave  the  book  to  Marguerite  Gautier  ? " 

"It  was  I." 

"  The  book  is  yours,  Monsieur  ;  take  it  ;  I  am 
happy  to  be  able  to  restore  it  to  you." 

"  But,"  said  he,  with  some  embarrassment,  "  I 
must,  at  least,  be  allowed  to  give  you  the  price 
which  you  have  paid  for  it." 

"  By  no  means.  Allow  me  to  beg  your  acceptance 
of  the  book.  The  price  of  a  single  volume  in  such  a 
sale  is  very  trivial,  and  I  cannot  now  say  how  much 
I  paid  for  it." 

"  You  paid  no  less  than  loo  francs  for  it, 
Monsieur." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  I,  embarrassed  in  my  turn  ; 
"  but  how  could  you  be  aware  of  it  ?  " 

"  Very  simply.  I  hoped  to  reach  Paris  in  time 
for  the  sale,  but  have  arrived,  in  fact,  only  this 
morning.  I  was  bent  upon  possessing  some  object 
which  had  belonged  to  her,  and  I  ran  to  the  auctioneer 
and  demanded  permission  to  see  the  list  of  articles 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELTAS       35 

sold,  and  the  names  of  the  purchasers  ;  and  I  then 
saw  that  this  book  had  been  bought  by  you,  and 
resolved  to  beg  you  to  transfer  it  to  me  ;  although 
the  price  which  you  had  paid  made  me  fear  that  you 
yourself  associated  some  souvenir  with  the  volume, 
which  might  render  you  unwilling  to  part  with  it." 

In  thus  speaking,  Armand  was  evidently  impressed 
with,  the  fear  that  I  had  known  Marguerite  as  he 
himself  had  done. 

I  hastened  to  disabuse  him. 

"  I  knew  Mademoiselle  Gautier  only  by  sight," 
said  I.  "  Her  death  made  that  impression  upon  me 
that  the  death  of  a  young  female  naturally  makes 
upon  a  young  man  who  had  regarded  her  beauty  with 
admiration,  and  I  was  desirous  to  purchase  some 
small  article  which  had  been  hers.  I  fixed  upon  this 
book — I  hardly  know  why  ;  but  was  rendered 
obstinate  in  my  pursuit  of  it  for  the  satisfaction 
of  annoying  a  gentleman  who  was  bidding  for  it, 
in  a  manner  of  direct  defiance  ;  and  I  repeat,  there- 
fore, that  it  is  entirely  at  your  disposal ;  and  I  again 
beg  you  to  accept  it,  in  proof  that  you  do  not  regard 
me  in  the  affair  as  you  would  an  auctioneer,  and  as 
the  gage  of  a  longer  and  more  intimate  acquaintance 
between  us  hereafter." 

"  Be  it  so.  Monsieur,"  said  Armand,  offering  his 
hand,  and  pressing  my  own  ;  "  I  accept  your  offer, 
and  shall  remember  your  kindness  as  long  as 
I  live." 

I  would  gladly  have  questioned  this  young  man 
respecting  Marguerite  ;  for  the  dedication  of  the 
book,  the  journey  which  he  had  made,  and  his  anxiety 
to  repossess  the  volume,  had  excited  my  curiosity  ; 
but  I  feared  to  press  my  inquiries,  lest  I  should  seem 
to  have  refused  money  for  the  book,  in  order  to 
establish  a  right  of  inquiring  into  his  affairs  by  my 
claims  upon  his  gratitude. 


36       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

One  would  have  thought  that  he  divined  my 
feehngs,  for  he  said,  "  You  have  read  this  book  ?  " 

"  Throughout." 

"  What  did  you  think  of  the  two  lines  written  by 
me  at  the  beginning  ?  " 

"  I  saw  at  once  that  you  had  seen  in  this  poor  girl 
something  that  removed  her  from  the  ordinary 
category  of  her  class  ;  for  I  would  not  imagine  in 
those  words  a  mock  compliment." 

"  And  you  judged  rightly,  Monsieur.  This  girl 
was  an  angel.  Look,"  he  added  :  "  read  this  letter." 
And  he  handed  me  a  letter,  which  had  evidently 
been  folded  and  unfolded  times  innumerable. 

I  opened  it.    It  contained  the  following  : — 

"My  dear  Arm  and, — I  have  received  j^oui 
letter.  You  have  remained  kind,  and  I  thank  Heaven 
for  it. 

"  Yes,  my  friend,  I  am  ill  indeed,  and  of  a  malady 
which  is  inexorable  ;  but  the  interest  in  me  which  you 
continue  to  retain  greatly  lightens  my  sufferings. 
It  is  scarcely  possible  that  I  should  live  long  enough 
to  have  the  happiness  of  again  pressing  the  kind  hand 
that  has  written  the  letter  which  I  have  just  received  ; 
and  the  language  of  which  would  itself  suffice  to  cure 
me,  could  anything  do  so. 

"  I  cannot  hope  to  see  you  again,  for  I  am  very 
near  death,  and  hundreds  of  leagues  separate  us. 
My  poor  friend,  your  Marguerite  of  other  days  is 
sadly  changed,  and  it  is  perhaps  better  that  you 
should  not  see  her  again,  than  see  her  such  as  she 
now  is. 

"  You  ask  me  if  I  forgive  you.  Oh,  most  willingly  I 
for  the  harm  which  you  have  done  me  was  but  a 
proof  of  the  love  which  you  felt. 

"  I  have  been  confined  to  my  bed  for  a  month  ; 
and  I  cling  so  to  your  good  opinion  that  I  devote 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       37 

some  time  each  day  to  writing  the  journal  of  my 
hfc,  from  the  time  when  we  parted  until  the  moment 
when  I  shall  no  longer  have  the  strength  to  write 
more, 

"  If  the  interest  which  you  feel  for  me  is  real, 
Armand,  go,  when  you  return  to  Paris,  to  Julie 
Duprat.  She  will  give  you  this  journal.  You  will 
there  learn  the  reason,  and  the  excuse,  for  my  conduct 
towards  you. 

"  Julie  has  been  very  good  to  me.  We  speak  of 
you  often .  She  was  with  me  when  your  letter  arrived. 
We  wept  over  it  together. 

"  In  case  I  have  not  again  heard  from  you,  she  will 
be  charged  with  sending  you  these  papers,  on  your 
arrival  in  France.  But  do  not  feel  yourself  obliged 
to  me  for  them,  for  this  daily  recalling  of  the  only 
happy  hours  of  my  life  does  me  good  ;  and  if  you 
find  in  those  pages  an  excuse  for  my  conduct,  1 
shall,  in  turn,  have  found  an  inexhaustible  solace  in 
writing  them. 

"  I  could  wish  to  leave  you  something  which  should 
recall  me  ever  to  your  mind  ;  but  everything  is 
seized  in  my  apartment,  and  nothing  belongs  to  me 
more. 

"  Do  you  understand,  my  friend  ?  I  am  about  to 
die,  and  from  my  very  bed-room  I  hear  in  my  drawing- 
room  the  footsteps  of  the  man  whom  my  creditors 
have  placed  there,  to  see  that  nothing  is  removed, 
and  to  take  care  that  nothing  remains  to  me  if  I  should 
happen  to  survive  !  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  will 
v/ait  till  all  is  over  before  they  actually  commence 
their  sale  ! 

"  These  men  are  pitiless  ! — or  rather,  I  deceive 
myself  ;  it  is  Heaven  which  is  just  and  inflexible  ! 

"  Well,  my  friend,  you  will  come  to  the  sale,  and 
you  will  purchase  something  there  ;  for  if  I  put  the 
smallest  thing  aside  for  you,  and  it  is  discovered, 


38       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

these  people  are  quite  capable  of  prosecuting  you  for 
fraudulent  by  receiving  goods  under  seizure. 

"  It  is  a  sad  life  which  I  am  about  to  quit. 

"  Oh  !  that  Heaven  may  kindly  permit  me  to 
behold  you  once  more  before  I  die  !  But,  according  to 
all  probability,  I  have  now  to  bid  you  adieu,  my 
friend.  Pardon  me  that  I  do  not  write  more  ;  but 
the  physicians  who  promise  to  cure  me,  have  ex- 
hausted me  by  bleeding,  and  my  hand  refuses  longer 
to  guide  the  pen. 

"  Marguerite  Gautier." 

In  fact,  the  last  words  were  scarcely  legible. 

I  returned  the  letter  to  Armand,  who  had  evidently 
been  perusing  it  mentally  while  I  read  it  upon  the 
paper,  for  he  said  as  he  took  it,  "  Who  could  ever 
have  believed  that  the  writer  of  that  letter  was  a  girl 
of  such  a  class  ?  "  and  overcome  again  by  his  recol- 
lections he  gazed  for  a  long  time  upon  the  letter,  and 
at  length  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  And  when  I  think,"  resumed  he,  "  that  she  is 
dead,  without  my  seeing  her,  and  that  I  shall  never 
sec  her  more — when  I  think  that  she  has  done  for  me 
more  than  a  sister  would  have  done  I  cannot  forgive 
myself  for  having  left  her  to  die  thus.  Dead  !  dead  ! 
— thinking  of  me,  writing  to  me,  uttering  my  name  ! 
— poor,  poor  Marguerite  !  " 

And  Armand,  giving  free  course  to  his  grief,  gave 
me  his  hand,  and  continued  : 

"  People  would  consider  me  very  childish  to 
lament  thus  for  the  death  of  such  a  girl,  but  they 
do  not  know  what  I  have  caused  her  to  suffer  ;  how 
unjust  and  cruel  I  was  to  her,  and  how  forgiving  and 
submissive  she  to  me.  I  fancied  that  it  was  for  me 
to  forgive  her,  and  now  I  find  myself  undeserving 
of  the  pardon  she  accords  to  me.  I  would  give  ten 
years  of  my  life  to  weep  for  one  hour  at  her  feet  !  " 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       39 

It  is  always  difficult  to  soothe  a  grief  which  you  do 
not  know  ;  nevertheless,  I  was  touched  with  lively 
sympathy  for  this  young  man,  who  so  frankly  made 
me  the  confidant  of  his  sorrows  and  regrets  ;  and  I 
said  to  him,  "  Have  you  no  relations,  no  friends  ? 
Visit  them,  and  their  affection  will  console  you.  As 
to  myself,  I  can  only  pity  you." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  he,  rising  and  walking  rapidly 
up  and  down  the  room.  "  I  weary  you.  Forgive  nie 
for  forgetting  that  my  grief  matters  little  to  you, 
and  that  L  was  obtruding  upon  you  a  matter  which 
could  have  no  interest  for  you." 

"  Nay  !  You  entirely  misconceive  the  purport  of 
my  words.  I  would  gladly  serve  you  ;  and  I  regret 
only  my  inability  to  soothe  your  affliction.  If  my 
society  and  that  of  my  friends  will  afford  you  any 
satisfaction — in  fine,  if  you  have  need  of  me  in  any 
way  whatever,  I  entreat  you  to  believe  that  it  will 
gratify  me  to  be  useful  to  you." 

"  Forgive  my  sensitiveness,"  returned  he  ;  "  grief 
exaggerates  one's  sensations.  Allow  me  to  remain 
here  for  a  few  minutes  longer,  to  take  time  at  least 
to  dry  my  tears  ;  that  the  idlers  in  the  street  may  not 
regard  as  a  curiosity  the  great  boy  who  is  weeping. 
You  have  rendered  me  a  great  service,"  he  continued, 
"  in  giving  me  this  book.  I  know  not  how  to  show 
my  sense  of  what  I  owe  you." 

"  By  according  me  your  friendship,"  replied  I, 
"  and  by  telling  me  the  cause  of  your  grief.  One  is 
consoled  by  telling  what  one  suffers." 

"  That  is  true  ;  but  to-day  I  am  too  much  over- 
come, and  I  should  utter  but  incoherent  words  to  you. 
Another  day  you  shall  know  this  history  and  judge 
whether  I  have  not  reason  to  mourn  for  this  poor 
girl.  And  now,"  he  added,  wiping  his  brow  once 
more,  "  tell  me  that  you  have  not  found  me  intoler- 
ably foolish,  and  give  me  permission  to  see  you  again." 


40       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

The  look  of  this  young  man  was  good  and  gentle, 
and  I  was  greatly  attracted  towards  him. 

As  to  him,  his  eyes  began  to  be  clouded  again  with 
tears  ;  and  seeing  that  I  observed  it,  he  turned  away 
his  head. 

"  Courage,  my  friend  1  "  said  I  ;   "  take  comfort." 

He  bade  me  adieu,  and  making  a  scarcely  effectual 
effort  to  restrain  his  emotion,  he  rather  escaped  from 
the  room  than  went  out  of  it. 

I  lifted  the  curtain  of  my  window  and  saw  him 
re-enter  the  cabriolet  which  was  in  waiting  at  the 
door  ;  but  hardly  was  he  within  when  he  burst 
once  more  into  tears,  and  buried  his  face  in  his 
handkerchief. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  CONSIDERABLE  time  elapsed,  during  which  I 
heard  no  more  of  Armand,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
Marguerite  had  been  the  frequent  subject  of  con- 
versation. 

It  seems  sometimes  to  happen  that  the  name 
of  a  person  who  is  unknown  to  you,  or  at  any  rate 
indifferent,  has  only  to  be  pronounced  in  your 
presence  for  certain  details  to  begin  to  group  them- 
selves around  it,  and  for  you  suddenly  to  find  all  your 
friends  talking  about  it,  although  they  had  never 
dreamed  of  doing  so  before.  You  learn  that  you  have 
been  repeatedly  brought  in  contact  with  this  person, 
and  that  she  has  passed  you  many  times  in  your  life 
without  your  remarking  it  ;  and  you  find  in  the 
events  which  are  narrated  to  you  a  coincidence,  an 
actual  affinity,  with  certain  events  of  your  own  life. 

I  did  not  find  myself  in  exactly  this  position  in  the 
case  of  Marguerite,  since  I  had  seen  and  met  her,  and 
knew  her  by  sight.  Nevertheless,  since  the  sale,  her 
name  had  come  so  frequently  to  my  ears — and,  in  the 
case  named  in  the  previous  chapter,  the  name  had 
been  blended  with  a  grief  so  profound,  that  my  sur- 
prise had  been  greatly  excited,  and  my  curiosity 
aroused,  to  know  more  of  a  character  seemingly  so 
exceptional. 

The  result  was  that  even  in  meeting  acquaintances 
to  whom  I  had  never  before  spoken  of  Marguerite, 
I  addressed  them  with — 

"  Did  you  know  Marguerite  Gautier  ?  " 

41 


42       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  The  Dame  aux  Camelias  ?  " 

"  The  same." 

"  Quite  well." 

This  "  quite  well  "  was,  in  many  cases,  accompanied 
by  a  smile,  as  to  the  meaning  of  which  there  could 
be  no  doubt. 

"  Well,  what  sort  of  a  person  was  she  ?  "  con- 
tinued I. 

"  A  good  girl." 

"  And  that  is  all  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  yes  ;  except  that  she  had  more 
spirit,  and  perhaps  more  heart  than  her  companions." 

"  But  you  know  nothing  particular  in  regard  to 
her  ?  " 

"  Oh  !    yes.    She  ruined  the  Baron  de  G ." 

"  Oh  !   only  that  ?  " 

"  She  was  the  mistress  of  the  old  Duke  of  B ." 

"  Really  his  mistress  ?  " 

"  It  was  said  so.  At  any  rate,  he  gave  her  immense 
sums  of  money." 

Always  the  same  general  facts.  I  was  curious, 
however,  to  learn  something  precise  as  to  the  con- 
nection between  Marguerite  and  Armand  Duval. 

I  met  a  gentleman  one  day  who  had  a  singularly 
extensive  acquaintance  among  ladies  who  were  well 
known.  I  questioned  him  ;  had  he  known  Marguerite 
Gautier  ? 

The  same  "  quite  well "  was  the  response. 

"  What  sort  of  a  girl  was  she  ?  " 

"  Beautiful  and  good.  Her  death  grieved  me  very 
much." 

"  Had  she  not  a  lover  named  Armand  Duval  ?  " 

"  A  tall,  fair  youth  ?  " 

"  The  same." 

"  Yes." 

"  Who  was  this  Armand,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  fancy  he  was  a  youth  who  spent  with  her 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       43 

what  little  he  possessed,  and  then  was  forced  to 
quit  her.   They  say  he  was  quite  mad  for  her." 

"  And  she  ?  " 

"  That  she  was  really  much  attached  to  him— 
but  as  such  girls  are  attached.  One  must  not  expect 
from  them  more  than  they  can  bestow." 

"  What  has  become  of  Armand  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  was  very  slightly  acquainted 
with  him.  He  lived  for  five  or  six  months  with 
Marguerite  ;  but  it  was  in  the  country.  When  she 
returned  to  Paris,  they  separated." 

"  And  you  have  not  seen  him  since  ?  " 

"  Never." 

Nor  had  I  seen  Armand  again.  I  had  begun  to  ask 
myself  whether,  at  the  time  of  his  visit  to  me,  the 
news  of  the  death  of  Marguerite,  having  just  reached 
him,  had  not  somewhat  exaggerated  his  love  of  the 
old  time,  and  consequently  his  grief  ;  and  that  both 
having  faded  somev/hat,  after  the  first  outburst,  he 
had  half  forgotten  her,  and  quite  forgotten  his  pro- 
mise to  visit  me  again. 

This  supposition  seemed  probable  enough  on 
general  grounds  ;  but  there  had  been  in  the  grief  of 
Armand  an  accent  of  sincerity  ;  and  passing  to 
the  other  extreme,  I  fancied  that  his  sorrow  might 
have  changed  into  illness  ;  and  my  hearing  nothing 
of  him,  indicated  that  he  was  ill,  or  even  perhaps 
dead. 

I  was  interested,  involuntarily,  in  this  young  man. 
Perhaps  this  interest  was  dashed  with  selfishness  ; 
perhaps  I  had  imagined  beneath  his  grief  a  touching 
history  of  the  affections  ;  and  perhaps,  in  fact,  my 
desire  to  know  it  had  much  to  do  with  my  anxiety 
as  to  the  silence  of  Armand. 

At  length,  as  M.  Duval  did  not  visit  me,  I  resolved 
to  visit  him.  It  was  not  difficult  to  find  a  pretext 
for  so  doing  ;    but,  unhappily,  I  did  not  know  his 


44       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

address,  and  among  all  whom  I  had  questioned  no 
one  could  mform  me  of  it. 

I  went  to  the  Rue  d'Antin.  The  porter  who  had 
been  with  Marguerite  might  know  Armand's  address. 
No !  it  was  a  new  porter,  and  he  knew  nothing 
about  it. 

I  then  ascertained  the  cemetery  in  which  Marguerite 
had  been  interred.    It  was  Montmartre. 

April  had  arrived.  The  weather  was  fine.  The 
graves  would  no  longer  wear  the  desolate  aspect  of 
winter.  In  fact,  it  was  warm  enough  for  the  living 
to  think  of  the  dead,  and  pay  them  a  visit. 

I  repaired  to  the  cemetery,  satisfied  that  a  single 
glance  at  the  grave  of  Marguerite  would  show  whether 
the  grief  of  Armand  still  continued,  and  that  I  might 
thus  learn  what  had  become  of  him. 

I  entered  the  keeper's  lodge,  and  asked  if  on  the 
22nd  of  February  a  female  named  Marguerite  Gautier 
had  not  been  buried  in  that  cemetery.  He  turned  the 
leaves  of  a  large  volume  in  which  are  inscribed  the 
names  and  localities  of  all  those  who  take  up  their 
last  abode  at  Montmartre  ;  and  presently  informed 
me  that,  in  truth,  on  the  22nd  of  February,  at  noon, 
a  young  woman  of  that  name  had  been  interred  there. 

I  begged  to  be  shown  to  the  grave,  because  there 
is  no  means  of  finding  one's  way  without  a  guide  in 
this  city  of  the  dead,  although  it  has  its  streets  like 
the  cities  of  the  living. 

The  keeper  summoned  a  gardener,  to  whom  he 
commenced  giving  the  necessary  indications  of  the 
locality  of  the  grave,  but  who  interrupted  him  by 
saying,  "  I  know,  I  know." 

"  The  grave  is  easily  recognised,"  continued  he, 
turning  to  me. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  demanded  I. 

"  Because  it  has  flowers  so  different  from  all  the 
others." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       45 

"  It  is  you,  then,  who  take  charge  of  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Monsieur  ;  and  I  wish  all  relatives  took  as 
much  care  for  the  dead  as  the  young  gentleman  who 
has  placed  this  grave  in  my  charge." 

After  a  few  turns,  the  gardener  paused,  saying — 

"  Here  it  is." 

I  found  beneath  my  eyes  a  little  enclosure  of 
flowers  which  one  would  never  have  supposed  to 
be  a  grave,  if  a  headstone  of  white  marble  had  not 
established  the  fact. 

An  iron  railing  enclosed  the  ground  belonging  to 
the  grave,  and  this  space  was  literally  covered  with 
white  camelias. 

"  What  say  you  to  that  ?  "  exclaimed  the  gardener. 

"  That  it  is  very  beautiful." 

"  And  every  time  a  camelia  fades,  I  have  orders 
to  replace  it." 

"  And  who  gave  you  this  order  ?  " 

"  A  young  man  who  wept  much  the  first  time 
he  came.  An  old  lover  of  the  deceased,  no  doubt  ; 
for  it  appears  that  she  was  a  gay  one,  this  girl. 
They  say  she  was  very  pretty.  Perhaps  Monsieur 
was  acquainted  with  her  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Equally  as  well  as  the  other  gentleman  ?  "  asked 
the  gardener,  with  a  significant  smile. 

"  No.    I  never  spake  with  her." 

"  And  yet  you  come  to  see  her  here  ?  Well ! 
that  is  very  good  of  you  ;  for  those  who  come  to 
visit  the  poor  thing  do  not  overcrowd  the  cemetery." 

"  No  one  comes,  then  ?  " 

"  Not  a  soul,  except  this  young  man,  who  came 
once." 

"Only once?  " 

"  Once  only." 

"  And  never  returned  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  he  will,  when  he  comes  back." 


46       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  He  is  on  a  journey,  then  ?    Do  you  know  where  ?  " 

"  I  believe  he  is  gone  to  visit  the  sister  of  Made- 
moiselle Gautier." 

"  And  what  to  do,  pray  ?  " 

"  To  demand  her  authority  for  the  exhumation 
and  removal  of  the  body." 

"  Why  should  he  wish  that  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  you  know,  sir,  that  people  have  strange 
ideas  about  the  dead.  We  see  this  every  day — we. 
iiere.  This  grave  is  purchased  for  only  five  years,  and 
the  young  gentleman  wishes  a  deed  in  perpetuity,  and 
a  larger  plot  of  ground,  in  the  new  quarter." 

"  Which  do  you  call  the  '  new  quarter  '  ?  " 

"  The  new  graves,  that  they  are  now  selling, 
over  to  the  left.  If  the  cemetery  had  been  always 
managed  as  at  present,  there  would  not  be  its  equal 
in  the  world  ;  but  there  is  much  to  do,  now,  to  make 
it  what  it  should  be.    And  then  people  are  so  odd  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  say  that  there  are  people  who  bring 
their  pride  even  here.  Now  it  appears  that  this 
Mademoiselle  Gautier  had  lived  rather  fast,  (Pardon 
the  expression.)  At  present,  she  is  dead,  poor  thing, 
and  there  remains  as  much  of  her  as  of  those  against 
whom  there  is  nothing  to  say,  and  whose  graves  we 
sprinkle  every  day.  Now  then  !  When  the  friends  of 
those  who  are  interred  beside  her,  are  informed  who 
she  v/as,  can  you  believe  that  they  object  to  her  being 
placed  here  ?  And  that  they  say  such  people  ought 
to  be  buried  in  a  place  by  themselves,  like  the 
paupers  ?  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  like  that  ? 
I  gave  them  a  good  stirring  up, — I  did.  The  fat 
citizens,  who  don't  come  four  times  in  a  year  to  see 
their  dead  ;  who  bring  their  own  flowers  with  them — 
and  such  flowers  !  Who  grudge  to  keep  up  the 
graves  of  those  for  whom  they  pretend  to  weep  ;  and 
have,  in  fact,  written  on  their  tombs  tears  that  they 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       47 

have  never  shed  ;  and  yet  they  come  to  make  a 
difficulty  about  who  Hes  in  the  vicinity  !  You  can 
beheve  me,  or  not,  Monsieur  ;  I  did  not  know  this 
young  girl — I  don't  know  what  she  did — but  I  love 
the  poor  little  thing  for  all  that  ;  and  I  take  good 
care  of  her,  and  furnish  camelias  for  her  at  the 
lowest  price.  She  is  my  favourite  !  We  fellows,  we 
are  forced  to  love  the  dead,  because  we  are  so 
occupied  with  them  that  we  have  hardly  time  to  love 
anything  else  !  " 

I  looked  at  this  honest  fellow,  and  my  readers  need 
not  be  told  the  emotion  which  I  experienced  in 
listening  to  him. 

He  probably  perceived  it  ;  for  he  continued : — 
"  They  say  that  there  were  young  men  who  ruined 
themselves  for  that  girl  there  ;  and  that  she  had 
lovers  who  adored  her.  Ah  !  well  ;  and  when  I  think 
that  not  one  of  them  all  comes  to  see  her,  or  to  bring 
her  a  single  flower,  it  is  that  which  seems  so  odd, 
and  so  pitiful.  But  yet  she  needs  no  pity.  She  has 
her  tomb, — and  if  there  is  only  one  who  remembers 
her,  he  does  enough  for  all  the  others.  But  we  have 
here  poor  girls  of  the  same  sort,  and  the  same  age, 
whom  they  toss  into  the  comm.on  trench  ;  and  it 
strikes  me  to  the  heart  when  I  hear  their  poor  bodies 
thrown  into  the  ground.  And  not  a  single  soul  thinks 
of  them,  once  they  are  dead  !  It  is  not  always 
pleasant,  the  work  we  have  to  do  ;  especially  if  we 
have  a  little  heart  left.  But  what  would  you  have? 
It  is  too  much  for  me.  I  have  a  fine,  big  girl  of 
twenty  ;  and  when  they  bring  here  a  dead  girl  of 
her  age,  I  think  of  her  ;  and  whether  it  be  a  fine 
lady  or  a  poor  thing  like  this  that  comes,  I  can't 
help  being  grieved. 

"  But  I  weary  you  with  my  talk,"  continued  he  ; 
"  and  it  is  not  to  listen  to  me  that  you  came  here.  I 
was  told  to  show  you  the  grave  of  Mademoiselle 


^S   THE  LADY  WITH  THE  C AMELIAS 

Gautier.  There  it  is.  Can  I  be  of  any  other  service 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Do  3/011  know  the  address  of  M.  Armand  Duval  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Yes,  Monsieur.     He  lives  in  Street.     At 

least  it  is  there  that  I  go  to  be  paid  for  the  flowers 
which  you  see." 

"  Thank  you,  my  friend." 

I  cast  a  last  look  upon  this  flowery  tomb,  of  which 
I  could  not  but  wish  to  pierce  the  depths,  to  see  what 
the  cold  grave  had  made  of  the  beautiful  creature 
who  had  been  cast  into  its  bosom  ;  and  I  walked 
away,  sad  and  thoughtful. 

"  Does  Monsieur  wish  to  see  M.  Duval  ?  "  asked 
the  gardener,  who  was  walking  beside  me. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  certain  that  he  has  not  returned,  without 
my  seeing  him  here." 

"  You  are  convinced,  then,  that  he  has  not  forgotten 
Marguerite  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  only  convinced  of  that,  but  I  am  certain 
that  his  desire  to  have  the  grave  changed  is  solely 
the  desire  to  see  her  once  more." 

"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  The  first  word  he  said  to  me  when  he  entered 
the  cemetery,  was  '  How  could  I  see  her  again  ? ' 
That  could  be  done  only  by  changing  the  grave  ; 
and  I  gave  him  all  the  necessary  particulars  for 
obtaining  that  change.  You  see,  when  they  transfer 
the  dead  from  one  grave  to  another,  it  is  essential  that 
they  should  be  identified  ;  and  the  family  alone  can 
authorise  the  proceeding — at  which,  in  fact,  A 
commissary  of  police  is  required  to  preside.  It  is  "to 
obtain  this  authorisation  that  M.  Duval  has  gone 
to  visit  the  sister  of  Mademoiselle  Gautier, — and  his 
first  visit  on  his  return  will  certainly  be  to  this  place." 

We  had  reached  the  gate  of  the  cemetery.    I  again 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       49 

thanked  the  worthy  gardener,  as  I  handed  him  some 
pieces  of  money  ;  and  I  repaired  to  the  address  which 
he  had  given  me. 

Armand  had  not  returned, 

I  left  word  at  his  house,  begging  him  to  come  and 
see  me,  on  his  arrival ;  or  at  least  to  let  me  know 
where  I  could  find  him. 

Only  two  days  afterwards,  in  the  morning,  I 
received  a  letter  from  M.  Duval,  informing  me  of  his 
return,  and  begging  me  to  call  on  him  ;  adding  that, 
overcome  by  fatigue,  he  was  quite  unable  to  leave 
the  house. 


CHAPTER  VI 

I  FOUND  Armand  in  bed.  On  seeing  me,  he  extended 
his  hand,  which  I  found  burning  hot. 

"  You  are  feverish,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  said  he  ;  "  only  the  fatigue  of  a 
rapid  journey." 

"  You  have  been  to  see  Marguerite's  sister  ?  " 

"  Yes.    But  who  told  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  it.  And  you  have  obtained  that  which 
you  sought  ?  " 

"  Yes — again  ;  but  who  informed  you  of  my 
journey  and  its  object  ?  " 

"  The  gardener  of  the  cemetery." 

"  You  have  seen  the  grave  ?  " 

I  hardly  dared  to  answer  ;  for  the  tone  of  this 
last  inquiry  showed  that  Armand  was  still  a  prey  to 
the  grief  of  which  I  had  been  a  witness  ;  and  that 
every  time  his  own  thoughts  or  the  words  of  another, 
led  to  this  painful  subject,  his  emotions  would  over- 
power his  will. 

I  contented  myself,  therefore,  with  a  simple  sign 
of  assent. 

"  He  has  taken  good  care  of  it  ?  "  asked 
Armand. 

"  Perfect." 

Two  big  tears  rolled  down  the  cheeks  of  the  invalid, 
who  turned  away  his  head  to  hide  them.  I  assumed 
the  air  of  not  having  seen  them,  and  endeavoured 
to  change  the  conversation. 

"  It  is  three  weeks  since  you  left,"  said  I. 

50 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       51 

"  Yes — just  three  weeks." 

"  You  have  had  a  long  journey  ?  " 

"  Ah,  I  have  not  been  travelling  all  the  time.  I 
was  ill  for  a  fortnight.  I  should  have  returned  long 
since  ;  but  I  had  hardly  reached  my  destination 
when  I  was  seized  with  a  fever,  and  forced  to  keep 
my  chamber." 

"  And  you  set  out  again,  without  having  re- 
covered ?  " 

"  If  I  had  remained  another  week  in  that  region, 
I  should  have  died." 

"  But  now  that  j'ou  are  returned,  you  really  must 
take  care  of  yourself.  Your  friends  will  come  to  sec 
you — myself  the  foremost,  if  you  permit  me." 

"  In  two  hours  I  shall  get  up." 

"  How  imprudent." 

"  It  is  necessary." 

"  What  is  there  so  pressing  ?  " 

"  I  must  go  to  the  commissary  of  police." 

"  Why  do  you  not  send  someone  else  with  the 
mission,  the  performance  of  which  may  render  you 
very  ill  again." 

"  It  is  the  only  thing  that  can  cure  me.  I  miist 
see  her.  Since  I  have  learned  of  her  death — and 
especially  since  I  have  seen  her  grave — I  cannot 
sleep.  I  cannot  realise  to  myself  that  this  girl,  whom 
I  left  so  lovely  and  so  young,  is  dead.  I  must  assure 
myself  of  it.  I  must  see  what  has  become  of  the  being 
whom  I  so  loved  ;  and  perhaps  the  horror  of  the 
spectacle  will  supersede  the  despair  of  memory. 
You  will  accompany  me,  will  you  not  ?  That  is, 
if  it  will  not  weary  you  too  much." 

"  What  said  the  sister  to  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  She  seemed  greatly  astonished  that  a 
stranger  should  wish  to  purchase  a  piece  of  ground 
and  construct  a  tomb  for  Marguerite  ;  but  she  signed 
at  once  the  authorisation  which  I  asked." 


52       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Listen  to  me  !  Defer  this  removal  until  you  are 
better." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  well  able  to  go  through  with  it, 
believe  me.  Indeed,  I  shall  go  mad  unless  I  finish  at 
once  that  which  I  have  undertaken  ;  and  the  accom- 
plishment of  which  has  become  a  necessity  of  my 
grief.  I  declare  to  you  that  I  cannot  compose  myself 
until  I  have  seen  Marguerite,  It  is,  perhaps,  a 
caprice  of  the  fever  that  consumes  me,  a  dream  of  my 
restlessness,  a  result  of  my  delirium  ;  but  if  I  must 
become  a  Trappist  (like  Mde.  Ranee),  after  having 
fulfilled  my  purpose,  I  will  yet  fulfil  it  !  " 

"  I  can  understand  this,"  said  I,  "  and  I  will  be  at 
your  service.    Have  you  seen  Julie  Duprat  ?  " 

"  Yes.    I  saw  her  the  very  day  of  my  first  return." 

"  Has  she  given  you  the  papers  which  Marguerite 
confided  to  her,  for  you  ?  " 

"  They  are  here." 

Armand  drew  a  roll  of  paper  from  beneath  his 
pillow,  and  instantly  replaced  it.  "I  know  by  heart 
what  these  papers  contain,"  said  he.  "  For  three 
weeks  past  I  have  read  them  ten  times  a  day.  You 
shall  read  them  also  ;  but  that  shall  be  hereafter, 
when  I  am  more  calm,  and  when  I  can  explain  to 
you  all  that  this  confession  reveals  of  love  and 
affection.    But  now  I  have  a  service  to  ask  of  you." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  You  have  a  carriage  at  the  door  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  then  ;  will  you  take  my  passport  and  go  to 
the  Post  Office,  to  ask  if  there  are  any  letters  for  me  ? 
My  father  and  sister  were  to  have  written  to  me  at 
Paris  :  and  I  left  here  with  so  much  precipitation 
before,  as  not  to  inquire  after  their  letters  before 
leaving.  When  you  come  back,  we  can  go  together  to 
notify  the  commissary  of  police  of  the  ceremony  of 
to-morrow." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       53 

Armand  handed  me  his  passport,  and  I  drove  to  the 
Post  Office  in  the  Rue  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau. 

There  were  two  letters  in  the  name  of  Duval.  I 
took  them,  and  returned. 

When  I  re-appeared,  Armand  was  already  dressed 
and  prepared  to  go  out. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  he,  taking  his  letters  ;  and 
added,  after  a  glance  at  the  address,  "  Yes  ;  they 
are  from  my  father  and  sister.  They  must  have 
wondered  at  my  silence." 

He  opened  the  letters,  and  rather  divined  their 
contents  than  ascertained  them,  for  they  were  some 
four  pages  deep  ;  and  at  the  end  of  a  moment  he 
had  refolded  them. 

"  Let  us  go,"  resumed  he,  "  I  will  answer  these 
to-morrow." 

We  went  to  the  commissary  of  police  and  Armand 
handed  him  the  authorisation  which  he  had  obtained 
from  Marguerite's  sister. 

The  commissary  gave  him  in  exchange  a  letter  of 
advice  for  the  keeper  of  the  cemetery.  It  was 
arranged  that  the  removal  of  the  body  should  take 
place  the  next  day,  at  ten  o'clock  ;  that  I  should  call 
for  him  an  hour  beforehand  ;  and  that  we  should  go 
together  to  the  cemetery. 

I  was  myself  curious  to  be  present  on  this  occasion ; 
and  I  confess  that  I  slept  little  that  night.  To  judge 
from  the  thoughts  which  the  expectation  of  the 
morrow  awakened  in  me,  the  night  must  have  been  a 
long  one  for  Armand. 

When  I  entered  his  apartment  at  nine  o'clock 
the  next  morning,  I  found  him  terribly  pale- 
but  he  seemed  calm.  He  smiled  and  gave  me  his 
hand. 

His  candles  were  burned  down  to  the  sockets, 
and  before  we  went  out  Armand  despatched  to  the 
Post  Office  a  bulky  letter,  addressed  to  his  father. 


54       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

and  containing,  no  doubt,  his  thoughts  of  the 
previous  night. 

Half^an-hour  later  we  were  at  Montmartre. 

The  commissary  was  waiting  for  us. 

We  walked  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  grave  of 
Marguerite.  The  commissary  went  first  ;  Armand 
and  I  followed. 

From  time  to  time  I  felt  that  the  arm  of  my  com- 
panion (which  I  held  within  my  own)  trembled 
convulsively,  and  shivered  as  if  seized  with  a  sudden 
chill.  But  when  I  looked  anxiously  at  him,  he  under- 
stood my  look,  and  smiled  to  reassure  me  ;  but  since 
we  had  left  his  house  we  had  not  exchanged  a  word. 

Shortly  before  we  reached  the  grave,  Armand 
paused  for  a  moment,  and  applied  his  handkerchief  to 
his  face — which  I  then  perceived  to  be  dripping  with 
perspiration. 

I  profited  by  this  pause  to  draw  breath  myself ; 
for  I,  too,  felt  as  if  my  heart  was  compressed  in  a 
vice. 

Whence  comes  the  strange  pleasure  which  one  takes 
in  spectacles  of  this  sort  ? 

When  we  arrived  at  the  grave,  the  gardener  had 
already  removed  all  the  pots  of  flowers, — the  iron 
railing  had  been  taken  away, — and  two  men  were 
removing  the  earth. 

Armand  leaned  against  a  tree  and  looked  on. 

All  his  soul  seemed  to  be  in  his  eyes. 

Presently  one  of  the  diggers  struck  upon  a  stone. 

At  this  sound,  Armand  recoiled  as  if  he  had  received 
an  electric  shock,  and  unconsciously  pressed  my 
hand  so  violently  as  to  give  me  pain. 

One  of  the  workmen  now  took  a  large  shovel,  and 
gradually  emptied  the  grave,  until  he  came  to  the 
large  stones  which  lay  directly  upon  the  coffin,  and 
which  he  threw  out  one  by  one. 

I  watched  Armand,  for  I  feared  that  at  any  moment 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       55 

the  emotion  which  he  so  visibly  suppressed  might 
overpower  him  ;  but  he  continued  to  observe  the 
process,  with  his  eyes  fixed  and  staring,  as  in  madness ; 
a  sHght  quivering  of  the  cheeks  and  lips  being  alone 
perceptible,  and  proving  that  he  was  suffering  a 
violent  excess  of  nervous  excitement. 

As  to  myself,  I  can  say  but  one  thing :  I  wished 
I  had  not  come. 

When  the  coffin  was  quite  uncovered,  the  com- 
missary said  to  the  workmen,  "  Open  !  " 

The  men  obeyed,  as  if  it  were  the  commonest  thing 
in  the  world. 

The  coffin  was  of  oak,  and  the  men  began  to 
unscrew  the  upper  lid.  The  humidity  of  the  soil 
had  rusted  the  screws,  and  it  was  not  without  effort 
that  the  coffin  was  opened. 

Tainted  odour  was  instantly  perceptible,  despite 
the  aromatic  herbs  with  which  the  body  was  bestrewn. 

"  Oh  !  My  God  !  My  God  !  "  murmured  Armand, 
turning  paler  than  before. 

The  workmen  themselves  recoiled.  A  large  white 
shroud  covered  the  body,  and  left  visible  most  of  its 
outlines.  This  shroud  was  completely  decayed,  or 
gnawed,  at  one  corner,  and  left  exposed  a  naked  foot 
of  the  deceased. 

I  was  nearly  overpowered  ;  and  even  while  I 
write  these  lines,  the  recollection  of  this  scene  comes 
back  upon  me,  in  all  its  horrible  reality. 

"  Make  haste  !  "  exclaimed  the  commissary.  One 
of  the  men  extended  his  hand,  and  lifting  a  corner 
of  the  shroud,  suddenly  exposed  the  face  of  the  dead. 

It  was  horrible  to  see  ;  it  is  horrible  to  relate  ! 

Of  the  eyes,  there  remained  but  two  empty  sockets. 
The  lips  had  disappeared.and  the  white  teeth,  closed 
over  each  other,  glared  fearfully  upon  the  view.  The 
long,  black  hair  was  laid  in  masses  over  the  temples, 
and  veiled  partially  the   disclosed  cavities  of  the 


56       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

cheeks  ;  yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  I  recognised 
in  this  visage,  the  joyous  countenance  of  white  and 
rose  which  I  had  so  often  admired, 

Armand,  without  being  able  to  take  his  eyes  from 
this  terrible  spectacle,  had  placed  his  handkerchief 
to  his  mouth,  and  was  biting  it. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  a  band  of  iron  encircled  my 
brow,  a  veil  covered  my  eyes,  there  was  a  ringing  in 
my  ears,  and  all  that  I  could  do  was  to  open  a  smelling- 
bottle,  which  I  had  brought  half  accidentally,  and 
inhale  violently  the  salts  which  it  contained. 

In  the  midst  of  this  sort  of  trance,  I  heard  the 
commissary  say  to  M.  Duval,  "  Do  you  identify  the 
deceased  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  Then  close  the  coffin  and  bring  it  away." 

The  workmen  replaced  the  linen  upon  the  visage 
of  the  deceased, — closed  the  coffin, — took  it  by  either 
end,  and  moved  towards  the  spot  which  had  been 
designated. 

Armand  did  not  move. 

His  eyes  were  rivetted  upon  the  empty  grave.  He 
was  pale  as  the  corpse  which  he  had  just  beheld.  He 
seemed  like  one  petrified.  I  anticipated  what  must 
come,  when  the  extremity  of  his  excitement  should  be 
somewhat  diminished  by  the  absence  of  the  fearful 
object  which  had  sustained  it. 

I  approached  the  commissary  and  said  : 

"  Is  the  presence  of  this  gentleman  any  longer 
necessary  ?  " 

"No,"  said  he  ;  "  and  I  even  counsel  you  to  take 
him  away,  for  he  seems  unwell." 

"  Come  !  "  said  I  to  Armand,  at  the  same  time 
taking  his  arm, 

"  What  ?  "  said  he  ;  gazing  at  me  without  recognis- 
ing me. 

"  All  is  over,"  added  I.    "  You  really  must  come 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       57 

home,  my  friend  ;  you  arc  pale  and  cold.  You  will 
kill  yourself  if  you  indulge  in  these  violent  emotions." 

"  You  are  right  ;  let  us  go,"  replied  he,  mechani- 
cally ;  but  without  moving  a  step. 

I  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  drew  him  along. 

He  allowed  himself  to  be  led  like  an  infant,  mur- 
muring only,  from  time  to  time,  as  if  half  to  himself : 

"  Did  you  see  those  eyes  ?  " 

He  then  turned  away,  as  if  that  horrible  vision 
were  again  present  to  his  view. 

Meantime  his  walk  became  slower  ;  he  seemed 
no  longer  to  advance,  except  by  twitches  ;  his  teeth 
chattered,  his  hands  were  icy  cold,  and  a  violent 
nervous  trembling  spread  over  his  whole  frame. 

I  spoke  to  him,  but  he  did  not  answer. 

All  that  he  could  do  was  to  allow  himself  to 
be  led. 

At  the  gate  of  the  cemetery  we  found  our  carriage. 
It  was  time. 

Hardly  had  I  placed  him  within,  when  the  shudder- 
ing increased,  and  he  experienced  a  complete  nervous 
attack, — amidst  which  the  fear  of  alarming  me 
made  him  murmur,  as  he  pressed  my  hand, 

"  It  is  nothing,  it  is  nothing  ;  only,  I  wish  I  could 
weep." 

And  I  heard  his  chest  heave,  while  his  eyes  became 
bloodshot  ;  but  tears  refused  to  flow. 

I  made  him  inhale  the  smelling-salts,  and  by  the 
time  we  reached  his  house,  only  the  ague  continued 
to  be  perceptible. 

With  the  help  of  the  servant,  I  got  him  into  bed. 
I  caused  a  large  fire  to  be  kindled  in  his  chamber  ; 
and  I  ran  to  seek  my  physician,  to  whom  I  recounted 
what  had  passed,  as  I  brought  him  back  with  me. 

Armand's  face  was  now  purple,  and  he  was  delirious; 
uttering  only  incoherent  words,  through  which  the 
name  of  Marguerite  alone  could  be  heard  distinctly. 


58       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Well  ?  "  said  I  to  the  doctor,  when  he  had 
examined  the  patient. 

"  Well,"  replied  he,  "  he  has  a  brain-fever,  neither 
more  nor  less, — and  it  is  fortunate  ;  for  I  believe 
(Heaven  forgive  me  !)  that  he  would,  otherwise, 
have  become  insane.  Now,  the  physical  malady 
will  conquer  the  mental  ;  and  in  another  month  he 
will  be  cured  of  both,  I  trust." 


CHAPTER  VII 

Diseases  like  that  with  which  Armand  was  attacked 
have  at  least  this  advantage,  that  they  kill  quickly, 
or  allow  themselves  to  be  quickly  conquered.  There 
is  no  long  suspense. 

A  fortnight  after  the  occurrence  of  the  events 
already  narrated,  Armand  was  in  a  state  of  con- 
valescence ;  and  he  and  I  were  united  in  an  intimate 
friendship.  I  had  scarcely  quitted  his  chamber  during 
the  time  that  his  illness  had  lasted. 

Spring  had  begun  to  scatter  in  profusion  her  flowers 
and  her  leaves  ;  birds  hovered  around  ;  and  the 
window  of  my  new  friend's  apartment  opened 
pleasantly  upon  a  garden,  the  cheering  odours  of 
which  mounted  to  refresh  us. 

The  doctor  had  permitted  him  to  rise,  and  we  often 
sat  conversing  beside  the  open  window,  at  the  hour 
when  the  warmth  of  the  air  rendered  it  not  imprudent 
for  him  to  do  so. 

I  carefully  avoided  all  mention  of  Marguerite, 
dreading  lest  her  name  should  awaken  a  fresh  memory 
of  grief  in  the  breast  of  the  invalid,  despite  his 
apparent  calmness  ;  but  on  this  occasion  Armand 
himself  spoke  of  her,  and  seemed  to  take  a  pleasure 
in  so  doing  ;  not,  as  formerly,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
but  with  a  gentle  sigh,  which  re-assured  me  as  to  the 
state  of  his  mind. 

I  had  remarked  that  after  his  last  visit  to  the 
cemetery,  and  after  the  spectacle  which  had  produced 
so  violent  a  crisis  in  his  condition,  the  severity  of  his 

59 


6o      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

mental  suffering  seemed  to  have  succumbed  to  his 
malady  ;  and  the  death  of  Marguerite  no  longer 
appeared  to  him  in  the  same  distressing  aspect  as 
before.  A  sort  of  consolation  seemed  to  have  resulted 
from  the  certainty  which  he  had  acquired ;  and  to  drive 
away  the  last  image  which  presented  itself  to  his 
memory,  he  sought  to  recall  memories  of  his  inter- 
course with  Marguerite,  and  seemed  unwilling  to 
dwell  upon  anything  more  recent. 

He  had  obstinately  refused  to  inform  his  family  of 
his  danger  ;  and  when  he  had  recovered,  his  father 
was  still  ignorant  of  his  illness. 

One  evening  we  had  remained  at  the  window  later 
than  usual.  The  weather  had  been  superb,  and  the 
sun  was  setting  amid  a  twilight  glowing  with  azure 
and  gold. 

Although  we  were  in  Paris,  the  verdure  which 
surrounded  us  appeared  to  shut  us  out  from  the 
world  ;  and  only  at  rare  intervals  did  even  the  noise 
of  some  distant  carriage  disturb  our  conversation. 

"  It  was  about  this  time  of  the  year,  and  on  the 
evening  of  a  day  like  this,  that  I  first  became  ac- 
quainted with  Marguerite,"  said  Armand,  after  a 
pause,  following  the  train  of  his  own  thoughts,  and 
paying  no  attention  to  what  I  had  last  remarked. 

I  made  no  reply. 

Presently  he  turned  again  towards  me  and  said, 
"  I  must  tell  you  this  story.  You  will  be  able  to 
make  a  book  of  it,  which  no  one  will  believe,  but 
which  it  may  perhaps  interest  you  to  write." 

"  You  shall  tell  it  to  me  hereafter,  my  friend," 
said  I,  "  you  are  not  yet  strong  enough  for  such  an 
effort." 

"  The  evening  is  warm,"  said  he,  smiling  ;  "  I 
have  eaten  my  wing  of  chicken,  I  have  no  fever,  we 
have  nothing  to  do,  and  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all 
about  it," 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAME  LIAS       6i 

"  Well,  if  you  insist,  so  be  it,    I  listen." 
"  It  is  a  very  simple  story,"  added  he  ;  "  but  I  must 
tell  it  to  you  in  the  order  in  which  the  events  occurred. 
If  you  make  anything  of  it  by  and  by,  you  can  tell 
them  in  your  own  way." 

The  following  is  the  story  as  he  related  it,  and  I 
have  changed  scarcely  a  word  of  the  touching 
recital. 

Yes  !  (resumed  Armand,  letting  his  head  recline 
upon  the  back  of  his  easy  chair),  yes  !  it  was  just 
such  an  evening  as  this,    I  had  passed  the  day  in  the 

country  with  one  of  my  friends,  Gaston  de  R . 

In  the  evening  we  returned  to  Paris,  and  not  knowing 
what  to  do  with  ourselves,  we  dropped  in  at  the 
Theitre  des  Varietes.  Between  the  acts  we  stepped 
into  the  lobby,  and  there  we  passed  a  tall  lady  to 
whom  my  friend  bowed. 

"  Whom  did  you  bow  to,  then  ?  "  demanded  I. 

"  To  Marguerite  Gautier,"  said  he. 

"  She  seems  to  me  much  changed,  for  I  did  not 
recognise  her,"  replied  I,  with  an  emotion  which  I 
will  explain  presently. 

"  She  has  been  very  ill.  The  poor  girl  will  not  last 
long,"  said  he. 

I  remember  these  words  as  if  they  had  been 
spoken  only  yesterday  ! 

You  must  know,  my  friend  (continued  Armand) 
that  two  years  previously  the  sight  of  this  girl, 
whenever  I  encountered  her,  produced  a  strange 
impression  upon  me.  Without  knowing  why,  I 
always  turned  pale  and  trembled.  One  of  my 
friends,  who  is  an  amateur  of  the  occult  sciences, 
declared  that  it  was  "  an  affinity  of  fluids,"  a  "mag- 
netic sympathy,"  which  I  experienced ;  but  I  believe, 
simply,  that   I  was  destined  to  fall  in  love  with 


62       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Marguerite,  and  that  I  had  a  presentiment  of  the 
fact  and  its  consequences. 

Certain  it  is  that  she  had  affected  me  very  remark- 
ably, and  several  of  my  friends  had  observed  it,  and 
had  laughed  loudly  at  my  expense  on  account 
of  it. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  her  was  in  the  Place  de  la 
Bourse,  at  the  door  of  Suisse's  warehouse.  An  open 
caliche  stopped  there,  and  a  lady  dressed  in  white 
descended  from  it.  A  murmur  of  admiration  had 
attended  her  entrance  into  the  shop.  For  my  part 
I  remained  fixed  to  the  spot  from  the  moment  of  her 
entrance  until  she  came  out  again. 

Through  the  window  I  saw  her  select  in  the  shop 
the  articles  which  she  had  come  to  purchase.  I  could 
have  entered,  of  course,  but  I  dared  not.  I  did  not 
know  who  she  was,  and  I  feared  she  might  divine 
my  object  and  be  offended. 

She  was  elegantly  dressed,  wearing  a  muslin  dress 
with  ample  folds  ;  an  Indian  shawl,  with  corners 
embroidered  in  silk  and  gold  ;  a  bonnet  of  Italian 
straw ;  and  a  single  bracelet,  composed  of  that 
massive  chain  of  gold  which  had  then  just  become 
fashionable. 

She  re-entered  her  carriage  and  drove  away.  One 
of  the  shopmen  was  standing  at  the  door,  following 
with  his  eyes  the  carriage  of  his  lovely  customer.  I 
approached  him  and  asked  her  name. 

"  That  is  Mademoiselle  Marguerite  Gautier," 
replied  he. 

I  hesitated  to  ask  her  address,  and  went  away 
without  farther  information. 

The  memory  of  this  vision — for  such  it  seemed — 
did  not  pass  away,  as  so  many  had  done  before  ;  and 
I  continued  to  seek  everywhere  for  this  "  White 
Lady,"  so  regally  beautiful. 

Some  days  afterwards  a  grand  performance  took 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       63 

place  at  the  Op^ra  Comique.  I  went.  The  first 
person  whom  I  beheld,  sitting  in  one  of  the  proscenium 
boxes,  was  Marguerite  Gautier. 

The  young  friend  who  was  with  me  recognised  her 
also  ;  for  he  said,  as  he  pointed  her  out  to  me  by 
name,  "  See  that  lovely  girl  !  " 

At  that  instant  Marguerite,  turning  her  lorgnette 
in  our  direction,  saw  my  friend,  smiled,  and  made 
him  a  sign  to  pay  a  visit  to  her  box. 

"  I  shall  go  and  say  good  evening  to  her,"  said 
he,  "  and  will  return  instantly." 

I  could  not  forbear  to  say  to  him,  "  You  are  very 
fortunate." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"To  know  that  lady." 

"  Are  you  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  I ;  but  I  felt  my  colour  rising, 
because,  although  I  did  not  exactly  like  to  say  so, 
I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  make  her  acquaintance. 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  he  ;  "I  will  introduce 
you." 

"  Ask  her  permission  first,  then." 

"  Oh,  pardieu !  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  so  particular 
with  her.    Come  along." 

This  remark  and  its  tone  pained  me  in  spite  of 
myself.  I  dreaded  to  acquire  the  certainty,  that 
Marguerite  was  unworthy  of  the  feeling  which  she 
had  awakened  in  me. 

There  is  a  work  of  Alphone  Karr's  called  "Am 
Rmichen'*  in  which  the  hero  one  evening  follows  a 
beautiful  girl,  with  whose  loveliness  he  has  been 
completely  captivated  at  first  sight.  He  feels  that 
he  would  risk  anything  even  to  kiss  the  hand  of  this 
girl  ;  and  entertains  so  delicate  a  sentiment  for  her, 
that  he  fancies  it  almost  sacrilege  to  steal  a  glance 
at  the  ankle  which  she  displays  in  lifting  her  dress  to 
avoid  contact  with  the  earth. 


64       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

While  he  is  dreaming  of  all  that  he  would  dare 
or  do  to  possess  this  woman,  she  suddenly  stops  at  the 
corner  of  a  street,  and  as  he  approaches,  invites  him 
to  come  to  her  apartment. 

He  turns  away,  crosses  the  street,  and  takes  his 
way  home,  sad  and  disenchanted. 

I  remembered  this  story,  and  I  feared  that  my  own 
experience  might  be  similar  ;  and  this  girl  would 
accept  me  too  readily,  and  give  too  freely  the  love 
for  which  I  was  ready  to  make  almost  any  sacrifice. 

It  is  thus  with  us  men  ;  and  it  is  fortunate  that  the 
imagination  thus  idealises  the  sense,  and  that  our 
corporeal  desires  make  this  concession  to  the  dreams 
of  the  soul. 

But  in  truth  had  anyone  said  to  me,  "  you  shall 
win  this  woman  to-night  and  shall  be  Idlled  to- 
morrow," I  should  have  accepted  the  offer  ;  but 
had  I  been  told,  "  Pay  tv/o  louis,  and  you  shall  be  her 
avowed  lover,"  I  should  have  refused,  and  grieved  like 
a  child  who  finds  vanish  at  his  waking  the  castle  of 
delight  he  had  seen  in  his  dreams. 

Nevertheless,  I  wished  to  know  her.  It  was  a 
means,  and  indeed  the  only  one,  of  forming  an  actual 
judgment  about  her. 

I  said  accordingly  to  my  friend  that  I  insisted  upon 
his  having  her  permission  to  introduce  me,  before  I 
would  accompany  him  ;  and  I  rambled  about  the 
lobby  thinking  to  myself  that  a  moment  hence  I 
should  meet  her,  and  that  I  did  not  know  with  what 
countenance  I  should  face  her  glance.  I  even  sought 
to  study  beforehand  what  I  should  say  to  her. 

To  what  a  sublimity  of  childishness  does  love 
attain  ! 

A  moment  afterwards  my  friend  returned, 

"  She  expects  us,"  said  he. 

"  Is  she  alone  ?  "  asked  I. 

"  With  another  lady." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       65 

"  There  are  no  men  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Come,  then." 

My  friend  directed  his  steps  towards  the  door  of 
the  theatre. 

"  Hullo  !  "  said  I,  "  this  is  not  the  way." 

"  Oh,  we  are  going  to  buy  some  bonbons.  She 
asked  me  for  them." 

We  entered  a  confectioner's  shop  in  the  Opera 
Arcade.  I  was  ready  to  buy  the  whole  shop,  and 
began  to  see  with  what  we  could  fill  the  bag,  when 
my  friend  asked  for  a  pound  of  sugared  raisins. 

"  Do  you  know  if  she  likes  them  ?  " 

"It  is  well  known  that  she  never  touches  any 
other  kind." 

"Ah !  "  continued  he  as  we  returned,  "  do  you  know 
to  what  sort  of  a  girl  I  am  going  to  introduce  you  ? 
Now  do  not  imagine  that  it  is  to  a  duchess — it  is 
simply  to  a  girl  who  lives  under  *  protection.'  In 
fact,  she  is  most  thoroughly  '  protected  '  ;  so  do  not 
be  embarrassed,  but  say  whatever  comes  into  your 
head." 

I  stammered  an  assent,  and  followed  him,  saying 
to  myself  that  I  was  about  to  be  cured  of  my  passion. 

As  we  entered  the  box.  Marguerite  was  laughing 
loudly.    I  could  have  wished  her  to  be  sad. 

My  friend  presented  me.  Marguerite  saluted  me 
by  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head,  and  said  : 

"  And  my  bonbons  ?  " 

"  Here  they  are  !  " 

As  she  took  them  she  looked  at  me.  I  lowered 
my  eyes  involuntarily  and  coloured. 

She  leaned  toward  the  ear  of  her  companion,  said 
a  few  words  in  a  whisper,  and  then  both  burst  into 
laughter. 

Beyond  doubt  I  was  the  subject  of  their  merriment. 
My  embarrassment  was  redoubled. 


66      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

At  this  time  I  had  for  my  mistress  a  little 
shopgirl,  very  sentimental  and  affectionate,  whose 
sentiment  and  whose  letters  had  often  made  me  laugh. 
I  comprehended  now,  however,  what  I  must  have 
made  her  suffer,  by  what  I  was  enduring  myself ; 
and  for  full  five  minutes  I  loved  her  as  never  man 
loved  woman  ! 

Marguerite  ate  her  raisins,  without  troubling  her- 
self further  about  me. 

My  introducer  was  not  disposed,  however,  to  leave 
me  in  this  ridiculous  position. 

"  Marguerite,"  said  he,  "  you  must  not  be  sur- 
prised that  M.  Duval  does  not  speak  to  you.  You 
overpower  him  so  completely  that  he  cannot  say  a 
word." 

"  I  think,  rather,"  returned  she,  "  that  he  has 
accompanied  you,  because  you  thought  it  would 
be  tedious  to  come  here  alone," 

"  If  that  were  true,"  said  I,  in  turn,  "  I  should  not 
have  begged  Ernest  to  ask  your  permission  to  bring 
me. 

"  Oh  !  that  was,  perhaps,  only  one  way  of  retard- 
ing the  fatal  moment." 

Little  as  one  may  know  of  this  class  of  females, 
one  is  aware  of  the  pleasure  they  take  in  quizzing, 
and  making  sport  of  young  men  whom  they  see 
for  the  first  time.  It  is,  no  doubt,  a  sort  of  revenge 
for  the  humiliations  to  which  they  are  compelled 
to  submit  at  the  hands  of  those  whom  they  see 
daily. 

It  is  necessary,  therefore,  in  order  to  answer  them 
successfully,  to  possess  a  certain  knowledge  of  their 
world,  a  knowledge  which  I  did  not  possess.  Besides 
which,  the  ideal  which  I  had  formed  of  Marguerite, 
rendered  this  raillery  of  hers  more  painful  to  me. 
Nothing  seemed  indifferent  to  me  on  the  part  of  this 
woman. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       6; 

I  rose,  therefore,  saying,  with  an  alteration  of 
voice  which  I  could  not  wholly  disguise  : 

"  If  such  is  your  opinion  of  me,  Madame,  it  only 
remains  for  me  to  ask  pardon  for  my  indiscretion, 
and  to  take  my  leave,  with  the  assurance  that  I 
shall  not  intrude  again." 

I  bowed  and  took  my  departure. 

Hardly  had  I  closed  the  door,  when  I  heard  another 
outburst  of  laughter  ;  I  only  wished  someone  would 
jostle  me  at  that  moment  ! 

I  returned  to  my  stall. 

The  knock  sounded  for  the  rising  of  the  curtain. 

Ernest  returned  to  his  stall  by  my  side. 

"  How  you  behaved  yourself  !  "  said  he,  as  he 
seated  himself.    "  They  thought  you  were  mad  !  " 

"  What  said  Marguerite  when  I  came  away  ?  " 

"  She  laughed,  and  declared  that  she  had  never 
seen  such  a  queer  fellow.  But  you  must  not  stand 
still  to  be  beaten  ;  nor  should  you  do  such  girls  the 
honour  to  take  what  they  say  seriously.  They  do 
not  know  what  elegance  and  politeness  are.  They  are 
like  dogs  on  whom  one  puts  perfumes,  and  who  find 
the  smell  so  bad  that  they  roll  themselves  in  the 
dirt  to  get  rid  of  it." 

"After  all,  what  does  it  matter  ?  "  said  I,  endeavour- 
ing to  assume  an  indifferent  tone,  "  I  shall  never  see 
her  again  ;  and  although  I  was  pleased  with  her  before 
I  knew  her,  it  is  very  different  now  I  have  met  her." 

"  Bah  !  I  don't  despair  of  seeing  you  sometimes 
at  the  back  of  her  box,  and  to  hear  that  you  are 
ruining  yourself  for  her.  Meantime  you  are  right. 
She  is  ill-mannered  ;  but  she  would  be  a  splendid 
mistress  to  have  for  all  that." 

Luckily  the  curtain  rose,  and  Ernest  was  silent. 
For  me  to  say  what  was  played  would  be  impossible 
All  that  I  remember  is,  that  from  time  to  time 
I  raised  my  eyes  to  the  box  which  I  had  quitted  so 


68       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

abruptly,  and  that  the  faces  of  fresh  visitors  suc- 
ceeded each  other  every  moment. 

I  was  far  from  thinking  no  more  of  Marguerite. 
Another  feehng,  however,  had  taken  possession  of  me. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  her  ridicule  to  punish, 
if  it  cost  me  all  that  I  possessed.  I  would  conquer 
this  girl,  and  have  the  rigid  to  take  the  place  which 
I  had  just  now  abandoned  so  suddenly. 

Before  the  close  of  the  performance,  Marguerite 
and  her  friend  left  their  box. 

Almost  in  spite  of  myself  I  left  my  stall. 

"  You  are  going  ?  "  said  Ernest,  surprised. 

"  Yes," 

"  Why  ?  " 

At  this  moment  he  perceived  that  Marguerite's 
box  was  empty,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Go  !  Go,  by  all  means  ;  and  good  fortune  to 
you  ;   nay,  better  than  good  !  " 

I  went. 

I  heard  on  the  stairs  the  rustling  of  dresses  and 
the  sound  of  voices.  I  stepped  aside,  and,  without 
being  seen,  I  saw  the  two  ladies  pass,  with  the  two 
gentlemen  who  formed  their  escort. 

Under  the  portico  of  the  theatre  a  little  page  was 
in  waiting. 

"  Go  and  tell  the  coachman  to  wait  at  the  door 
of  the  Cafe  Anglais,"  said  Marguerite  ;  "  we  will 
walk  as  far  as  that." 

Some  minutes  afterwards,  in  rambling  on  the 
Boulevard,  I  observed,  at  the  window  of  one  of  the 
private  rooms  of  the  restaurant.  Marguerite  leaning 
over  the  balcony,  and  plucking  to  pieces  one  of  the 
camelias  of  her  bouquet. 

One  of  the  gentlemen  was  leaning  on  her  shoulder 
and  speaking  to  her  in  a  low  tone. 

I  went  and  installed  myself  at  a  restaurant  opposite, 
and  never  lost  sight  of  the  window  in  question. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAM  ELI  AS       69 

At  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Marguerite  entered 
her  carriage  with  her  three  friends. 

I  took  a  cab  and  followed. 

The  carriage  stopped  at  No.  9  Rue  d'Antin. 

Marguerite  descended  and  entered  her  house  alone. 

This  was  doubtless  accidental  ;  but  the"  accident  " 
made  me  very  happy. 

After  that  day  I  frequently  met  Marguerite  at 
the  theatres  or  in  the  Champs  Elysees.  Always 
the  same  gaiety  on  her  part — the  same  emotion 
on  mine. 

A  fortnight,  however,  elapsed  on  one  occasion, 
without  my  seeing  her  at  all.  I  encountered  Gaston, 
and  asked  him  for  news  of  her. 

"  The  poor  girl  is  very  ill,"  said  he. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Some  affection  of  the  lungs  ;  and  as  she  has  not 
led  the  sort  of  life  to  cure  herself,  she  is  confined 
to  her  bed,  and  it  is  said  she  must  die." 

The  heart  is  a  strange  medley !  I  was  not  altogether 
unwilling  that  she  should  die  ! 

I  went,  however,  daily  to  inquire  after  her  health 
(v/ithout  leaving  my  name) ;  and  I  thus  learned  of 
her  convalescence  and  her  departure  for  Bagneres. 

Time  passed  ;  the  impression,  if  not  the  memory, 
was  gradually  fading  from  my  heart.  I  travelled, 
Flirtations,  occupations,  change  of  habits,  took  the 
place  of  this  one  idea  ;  and  when  I  thought  of  it  at 
all,  I  would  see  in  it  only  one  of  those  fancies  which 
one  has  in  extreme  youth,  and  at  which  one  laughs  a 
few  years  afterwards. 

Still  I  had  not  the  merit  of  really  conquering  this 
passion  ;  for  I  had  lost  sight  of  Marguerite,  and  when 
I  saw  her  again  (as  I  tell  you)  in  the  lobby  of  the 
theatre,  I  did  not  recognise  her. 

She  wore  a  veil,  it  is  true  ;  but  veil  herself  as  she 
would,  two  years  before,  I  should  have  had  no  need 


70       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

to  see  her  in  order  to  recognise  her  ;   I  should  have 
divined  her  presence  by  instinct. 

Time  and  separation,  however,  had  not  so  banished 
her  image  as  to  prevent  my  heart  from  beating 
tumultuously  when  I  knew  that  it  was  she  ;  and 
the  two  years  which  had  passed  without  my  seeing  her, 
and  the  effect  which  I  had  imagined  to  be  produced 
by  this  separation,  vanished  altogether  at  the  mere 
touch  of  her  robe. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Nevertheless  (continued  Armand,  after  a  pause), 
while  knowing  quite  well  that  I  was  still  in  love,  I 
felt  myself  more  resolute  than  before  ;  and  in  my 
desire  to  resume  my  acquaintance  with  Marguerite, 
I  flattered  myself  that  I  wished  only  for  the  opportun- 
ity of  showing  her  that  I  had  become  superior  to  her 
caprices. 

What  routes  the  heart  takes,  and  what  excuses  it 
fabricates,  to  arrive  at  what  it  desires  ! 

After  Marguerite  had  passed  me  in  the  lobby,  on 
the  occasion  which  I  have  named,  I  returned  to  my 
stall,  throwing  a  rapid  glance  at  the  boxes  to  see  where 
she  was  seated. 

She  was  in  one  of  the  boxes  of  the  ground-tier,  and 
alone.  She  was  much  changed,  as  I  have  told  you. 
I  no  longer  discovered  upon  her  lip  her  former 
habitual  smile  of  contemptuous  indifference.  She 
had  evidently  suffered,  and  seemed  to  suffer  still. 

Although  it  was  April,  she  was  still  in  winter  dress, 
and  wrapped  in  velvets. 

I  looked  so  fixedly  at  her,  that  my  gaze  at  length 
attracted  her  attention. 

She  regarded  me  for  some  little  time,  took  her  glass 
to  examine  me  more  closely,  and  thought  apparently 
that  she  recognised  me,  without  being  certain  who 
I  was  ;  for  when  she  withdrew  her  lorgnette,  a  smile 
— that  charming  salutation  of  which  women  make 
use — played  upon  her  lips,  in  readiness  to  respond  to 
the  recognition  which  she  seemed  to  expect  from 

71 


72       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

me  ;  but  I  made  no  answering  sign,  being  resolved 
to  have  the  advantage,  and  seem  to  forget  when 
she  had  remembered. 

She  fancied  heiself  mistaken  about  me,  and  pre- 
sently turned  away  again.    The  curtain  rose. 

I  have  seen  Marguerite  many  times  at  the  theatre, 
and  I  have  never  seen  her  pay  the  least  attention 
to  the  performance. 

As  to  myself,  the  play  interested  me,  also,  little 
enough  ;  and  I  occupied  myself  with  her  alone,  but 
taking  special  precautions  to  prevent  her  from  observ- 
ing that  I  did  so. 

In  watching  her  thus,  I  noticed  that  she  exchanged 
looks  from  time  to  time  with  a  lady  who  occupied  the 
box  opposite  to  her  own.  I  turned  my  eyes  tov/ards 
this  box,  and  recognised  a  person  with  whom  I  was 
well  acquainted. 

This  woman  had  formerly  been  une  femme  entretenue 
who  had  afterwards  essayed  to  become  an  actress  ; 
but,  failing  in  the  attempt,  and  counting  upon  her 
acquaintance  with  the  gay  v/orld  of  Paris,  had 
established  herself  in  trade  as  a  milliner. 

I  saw  at  once,  in  her,  a  means  of  meeting  with 
Marguerite  ;  and  I  profited  by  a  moment  when  she 
happened  to  look  towards  me,  to  give  her  a  bow  of 
recognition. 

As  I  anticipated,  she  made  me  a  sign  to  come  to 
her  box. 

Prudence  Duvernoy — such  was  the  happy  name 
of  the  modiste — was  one  of  those  fat  women  of 
forty,  with  whom  one  does  not  need  to  exercise  any 
great  amount  of  diplomacy,  to  make  them  say  what 
one  wants  to  know,  especially  when  what  one  wishes 
to  know  is  as  simple  a  matter  as  was  mine,  in  this 
instance. 

I  seized  the  moment  when  she  was  again  exchanging 
signs  with  Marguerite,  to  say  to  her  ; 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       73 

"  Who  arc  you  looking  at  ?  " 

"  Marguerite  Gautier." 

"  You  know  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  her  milliner,  and  she  is  my  nearest 
neighbour." 

"  You  live,  then,  in  the  Rue  d'Antin  ?  " 

"  At  No.  7.  The  window  of  her  dressing-room 
looks  into  the  window  of  mine." 

"  They  say  she  is  a  charming  girl  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  should  like  to  do  so." 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  ask  her  to  come  into  our 
box  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  should  prefer  you  to  present  me  to  her 
first." 

"  At  her  own  house  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  That  is  more  difficult." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"  Because  she  is  '  protected  '  by  an  old  Duke,  who 
is  very  jealous." 

"  Protected  ?    How  charmingly  delicate  !  " 

"  Yes,  -protected  is  the  very  word.  The  poor  old 
man  would  find  it  very  difficult,  I  fancy,  to  be  her 
lover  !  " 

And  Prudence  then  told  me  how  Marguerite  had 
met  with  the  Duke  at  Bagneres. 

"  That,  then,  is  the  reason  why  she  is  here  alone  ?  " 
I  demanded. 

"  Precisely." 

"  But  who  will  take  her  home  ?  " 

"  The  Duke." 

"  He  is  coming  for  her,  then  ?  " 

"  Directly." 

"  And  you,  who  takes  you  home  ?  *" 

"  Nobody."' 

"  I  offer  my  services." 


74      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  But  you  are  with  a  friend  1  " 

"  We  both  offer  ourselves,  then." 

"  But  who  is  your  friend  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  charming  fellow,  very  witty,  and  will 
be  enchanted  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

"  Capital !  It  is  agreed,  then.  We  will  all  leave 
after  this  piece,  for  I  know  the  next  one." 

"  Willingly.    I  will  go  and  inform  my  friend." 

"  Go,  then." 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Prudence,  at  this  moment, 
"  see  !  there  is  the  Duke,  entering  Marguerite's  box." 

I  looked. 

A  man  of  some  seventy  years  of  age  had  just 
seated  himself  behind  the  young  girl,  and  handed  her 
a  bag  of  bonbons. 

Marguerite  began  conversing  with  the  Duke. 

I  went  to  the  stalls  to  acquaint  Gaston  with  the 
arrangement  which  I  had  made  for  him  and  myself. 

He  assented. 

We  quitted  our  stalls,  to  ascend  to  Madame 
Duvernoy's  box ;  but  hardly  had  we  opened  the 
door  leading  from  the  orchestra  into  the  lobby, 
when  we  were  obliged  to  pause,  to  allow  Marguerite 
and  the  Duke  to  pass,  as  they  were  leaving  the 
theatre. 

I  would  have  given  two  years  of  my  life  to  be  in 
the  place  of  the  worthy  old  gentleman  ! 

On  reaching  the  street,  he  handed  Marguerite  into 
a  phaeton,  which  he  himself  drove  ;  and  they  dis- 
appeared at  the  full  trot  of  a  pair  of  superb  horses. 

We  entered  the  box  of  Prudence.  When  the  piece 
was  finished,  we  took  a  fiacre,  which  carried  us  to 
No.  7  Rue  d'Antin.  At  the  door  of  her  house,  Prud- 
ence invited  us  to  enter  in  order  to  see  her  showrooms, 
of  which  she  was  notably  proud.  You  can  judge 
how  readily  we  consented. 

It  appeared  to  me,  that  I  was  gradually  drawing 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       75 

nearer  to  Marguerite.  I  soon  led  the  conversation 
in  her  direction. 

"  The  old  Duke  is  with  your  fair  neighbour,  I 
suppose,"  said  I  to  Prudence. 

"  No,  she  must  be  alone." 

"  But  she  must  be  horribly  dull,  then,"  said 
Gaston. 

"  We  pass  most  of  our  evenings  together,  or  when 
she  returns  home  she  calls  me,"  said  Prudence. 
"  She  never  goes  to  bed  before  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning.    She  cannot  sleep  earlier." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  she  has  an  affection  of  the  chest,  and  is 
almost  always  feverish." 

"  She  has  no  lovers,  then  ?  "  asked  I. 

"  I  never  see  anyone  remain  when  I  leave  her  ; 
but  I  cannot  answer  for  it  that  no  one  comes  after 
I  am  gone.     I  often  meet  there  in  the  evening  a 

certain  Count  N ,  who  fancies  that  he  advances 

his  suit  by  paying  visits  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  and 
by  sending  her  as  much  jewellery  as  she  can  wish  ; 
but  she  does  not  seem  to  be  captivated.  She  is 
wrong,  however,  for  he  is  very  rich.  I  have  said  to 
her  again  and  again, — '  My  dear  child,  this  is  the  very 
man  you  want.'  But  she  who  ordinarily  listens  to 
what  I  say,  turns  her  back  upon  me,  and  says, 
'  He  is  too  stupid.' 

"  I  admit  that  he  is  stupid  ;  but  he  could  give 
her  a  position,  whereas  this  poor  old  Duke  may  die 
any  day.  Old  men  are  selfish  ;  and  his  family  are 
eternally  reproaching  him  for  his  connection  with 
Marguerite — two  reasons  why  he  will  leave  her 
nothing.  I  reason  with  her,  in  fact,  about  these 
things  ;  and  she  answers  that,  '  It  will  be  quite  time 
enough  to  take  the  Count  when  the  Duke  is  dead.' 

"  Indeed,"  continued  Prudence,  "  it  is  not  alto- 
gether amusing  to  live  as  she  does.    I  know  it  would 


76       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

not  suit  me,  and  I  should  send  the  old  gentleman 
walking  very  speedily !  He  is  insipid,  that  old  chap  ! 
He  calls  her  his  daughter,  and  takes  care  of  her  as  ii 
she  were  a  child.  He  is  always  at  her  heels,  in  fact. 
I  am  sure  that  at  this  very  moment  one  of  his  servants 
is  stalking  up  and  down  the  street,  to  see  who  goes 
out;  and  especially  who  goes  in," 

"  Ah  !  poor  Marguerite  !  "  said  Gaston,  as  Jhe  sat 
himself  down  at  the  piano  and  began  playing  a 
waltz.  "  I  did  not  know  all  this  ;  although  I  observed 
that  she  seemed  less  cheerful  of  late." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Prudence,  suddenly. 

Gaston  paused. 

"  She  calls  me,  I  think." 

We  listened.    Some  one  did  call  "  Prudence  !  " 

"  Now,  then,  gentlemen,  be  off  with  you,"  said 
Prudence. 

"  Ah  !  this  is  the  way  you  practise  hospitality  !  " 
said  Gaston,  laughing.  "  Now  we  shall  go  when 
it  suits  us." 

"  Why  should  we  go  ?  "  added  I. 

"  I  am  going  to  Marguerite." 

"  We  will  wait  your  return." 

"  That  is  impossible." 

"  We  will  go  with  you." 

"  Worse  and  worse." 

"  I  know  Marguerite,"  said  Gaston  ;  "  and  I  am 
quite  justified  in  paying  her  a  visit." 

"  But  M.  Duval  does  not  know  her." 

"  I  will  introduce  him." 

"  It  is  out  of  the  question  !  " 

We  again  heard  Marguerite's  voice,  calling 
"  Prudence  1  "  The  latter  ran  to  her  dressing-room 
and  opened  the  window.    I  followed  with  Gaston. 

We  placed  ourselves  so  as  not  to  be  seen  from 
without. 

"  I  have  been  calling  on  you  these  ten  minutes," 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       77 

said  Marguerite  from  her  window,  in  a  rather  angry 
tone. 

"  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  to  come  to  me  directly." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  the  Count  de  N is  still  here,  and 

wearies  me  to  death," 

"  But  I  can't  come  just  now." 

"  What  prevents  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  two  young  gentlemen  here  who  won't 

go- 

"  Tell  them  you  have  to  go  out," 

"  I  have  told  them  so  already." 

"  Very  well  !  Then  leave  them.  When  they  find 
you  gone,  they  will  soon  go." 

"  Yes  !    after  turning  everything  topsy-turvy." 

"  But  what  do  they  want  ?  " 

"  They  wish  to  see  you." 

"  Who  are  they  ?  " 

"  You  know  one  of  them — M,  Gaston  R ." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  him.    And  the  other  ?  " 

"  M.  Armand  Duval.    You  do  not  know  him  ?  " 

"  No.  But  bring  them  all  the  same.  Anything 
rather  than  the  Count.  I  wait  for  you.  Come  at 
once." 

Marguerite  closed  her  window,  and  Prudence  hers. 

Marguerite,  who  had  evidently  remembered  my 
face,  did  not  remember  my  name.  I  would  have 
preferred  an  unfavourable  recollection  to  this  total 
forget  fulness  1 

"  I  knew  she  would  be  enchanted  to  see  us  !  " 
said  Gaston. 

"  Enchanted  is  not  the  word,"  retorted  Prudence, 
as  she  put  on  her  shawl  and  bonnet  ;  "  she  receives 
you  in  order  to  drive  away  the  Count.  Endeavour 
to  be  more  agreeable  than  he  is,  or  Marguerite  will 
quarrel  with  me  for  bringing  you." 


-]%      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Prudence  descended  and  we  followed.  I  trembled. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  this  visit  was  destined  to  have 
an  important  influence  upon  my  future  life. 

I  was  even  more  disturbed  than  on  the  evening 
of  my  introduction  to  Marguerite  in  her  box  at  the 
Op6ra  Comique. 

As  we  reached  the  door  of  her  apartments  my  heart 
beat  so  violently  as  to  confuse  my  ideas. 

A  few  random  chords  struck  upon  the  piano 
reached  our  ears. 

Prudence  rang. 

The  sound  of  the  piano  ceased. 

A  woman,  having  more  the  air  of  a  companion  than 
a  servant,  opened  the  door  to  us. 

We  entered  the  drawing-room,  and  passed  through 
to  the  boudoir. 

A  young  man  was  leaning  against  the  mantel- 
piece. 

Marguerite,  seated  before  the  piano,  allowed  her 
fingers  to  run  over  the  keys,  and  commenced  frag- 
ments which  she  did  not  finish. 

The  aspect  of  the  scene  was  that  of  weariness — 
caused  to  the  gentleman  by  his  own  insignificance  ; 
to  the  lady,  by  the  gentleman's  presence. 

On  hearing  the  voice  of  Prudence,  Marguerite  rose 
and  approached  us.  After  bestowing  a  glance  of 
acknowledgment  upon  Madame  Duvernoy  for  the 
relief  she  had  brought,  Marguerite  said  to  us  : 

"  Come  in,  gentlemen.    You  are  very  welcome." 


CHAPTER  IX 

"  Good  evening,  my  dear  M.  Gaston,"  said  Mar- 
guerite to  my  companion,  "  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you.  Why  did  you  not  come  to  my  box  at  the 
Varietes  ?  " 

"  I  was  fearful  of  intruding." 

"  Friends,"  said  Marguerite  (and  she  dwelt  upon 
the  word  as  if  to  make  it  clear  to  those  who  were 
present  that  Gaston  was  not,  and  never  had  been, 
anything  more  than  this),  "  Friends  are  never 
intruders." 

"  As  a  friend,  then,  will  you  allow  me  to  introduce 
to  you  M.  Armand  Duval  ?  " 

"  I  have  already  empowered  Prudence  to  do  so." 

"  Besides  which,  Madame,"  said  I,  bowing  and 
endeavouring  to  make  myself  intelligible,  "  I  have 
already  had  the  honour  of  being  presented  to 
you." 

The  charming  glance  of  Marguerite  appeared  to 
look  through  her  memory  in  the  endeavour  to  recall 
where  and  when  she  might  have  met  me  ;  but  the 
effort  was  in  vain ;  she  appeared  to  remember 
nothing. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  nevertheless,  Madame," 
said  I,  "  for  having  forgotten  my  former  introduction  ; 
for  I  made  myself  very  ridiculous  on  that  occasion. 
It  was  two  years  since,  at  the  Op6ra  Comique. 
I  was  with  Ernest  de ." 

"  Ah  !  I  remember,"  said  Marguerite  with  a  smile. 
"  It  was  not  you  who  were  ridiculous  ;  it  was  I  who 

79 


8o       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

was  rude,  as  I  fear  I  still  am,  sometimes.  You  have 
forgiven  me,  Monsieur  ?  "  And  she  offered  me  her 
hand,  which  I  kissed. 

"  It  is  true,"  resumed  she,  "  that  I  have  the  bad 
habit  of  wishing  to  embarrass  people  whom  I  see 
for  the  first  time.  I  know  it  is  very  stupid.  My 
doctor  says  it  is  because  I  am  nervous  and  always 
suffering.    Pray,  believe  my  doctor." 

"  But  you  seem  very  well." 

"  I  have  been  very  ill,  nevertheless." 

"  I  know  it." 

"  Who  told  you  ?  " 

"  Everybody  knew  it.  I  came  frequently  to 
inquire  after  you,  and  I  heard  of  your  recovery 
with  pleasure." 

"  I  never  received  your  card." 

"  I  never  left  it." 

"  Were  you,  then,  the  young  gentleman  who  came 
every  day  to  inquire  after  me  during  my  illness,  and 
who  would  never  leave  his  name  ?  " 

"Yes.    It  was  I." 

"  Then  you  were  more  than  kind  ;  you  were 
generous.  It  is  not  you,  Count,  who  would  have 
done  that,"  added  she,  turning  towards  M.  de  N, 
after  having  cast  upon  me  one  of  those  searching 
looks  by  which  women  form  their  opinion  of  men. 

"  I  have  only  known  you  for  two  months,"  replied 
the  Count. 

"  And  this  gentleman  has  only  known  me  for  live 
minutes  !  You  do  say  such  stupid  things  !  " 

Women  are  pitiless  with  men  whom  they  dislike. 

The  Count  blushed  and  bit  his  lips.  I  was  sorry 
for  him,  for  he  appeared  in  love  like  myself  ;  and  the 
harsh  candour  of  Marguerite  must  have  made  him 
very  uncomfortable,  particularly  in  the  presence  of 
strangers. 

"  You  were  playing  the  piano  when  we  came  in," 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       8i 

said  I,  therefore,  to  change  the  conversation  ;  "  will 
you  not  do  me  the  pleasure  to  treat  me  as  an  old 
acquaintance,  and  continue  your  music  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  she,  throwing  herself  upon  the  sofa, 
and  making  a  sign  to  us  to  seat  ourselves  beside  her, 
"  Gaston  knows  what  sort  of  music  I  play.  It  is 
good  enough  when  I  am  alone  with  the  Count  ;  but 
I  have  no  wish  to  make  you  undergo  such  a  penance." 

"  You  have  that  preference  for  me,  then  ?  "  said 
the  Count,  with  a  smile  which  he  endeavoured  to 
render  ironical. 

"  You  are  wrong  to  reproach  me  with  this  pre- 
ference, for  it  is  the  only  one  I  manifest  for  you." 

It  seemed  clear  that  this  youth  was  not  to  say  a 
word  successfully.  He  cast  towards  her  a  look 
actually  suppliant. 

"  Now  then,  Prudence,"  added  she,  "  have  you 
done  Vi^hat  I  asked  you  to  do  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  That  is  well.  You  shall  tell  me  about  it  by  and 
by.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you.  You  must 
not  go  until  I  have  spoken  with  you." 

"  We  are  intruders,  I  fear,"  observed  I,  "  and  now 
that  we,  or  rather  I,  have  been  presented  for  the 
second  time,  in  order  to  make  you  forget  the  first, 
we  will  take  our  leave,  Gaston  and  myself." 

"On  no  account.  It  is  not  for  you  that  I  say 
this.    On  the  contrary,  I  wish  you  to  stay." 

The  Count  drew  an  elegant  watch  from  his  pocket 
and  looked  at  the  hour. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  to  go  to  the  club,"  said  he. 
Marguerite  made  no  response.  The  Count  quitted 
the  fireplace. 

"  Adieu,  Madame." 

Marguerite  rose.  "  Adieu,  Count.  You  are  going 
already  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  fear  that  I  weary  you." 


82       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Not  more  than  usual.  When  shall  we  see  you 
again  ?  " 

"  When  you  permit." 

"  Adieu,  then." 

This  was  severe,  you  will  admit.  The  Count  had, 
happily,  a  good  education  and  an  excellent  temper. 
He  contented  himself  with  kissing  the  hand  which 
Marguerite,  nonchalantly  enough,  offered  him,  and 
after  saluting  us  took  his  departure. 

At  the  moment  of  passing  the  door,  he  cast  a 
glance  at  Prudence.  She  shrugged  her  shoulders, 
with  an  air  which  seemed  to  say  : 

"  What  would  you  have  ?  I  have  done  my  best 
for  you." 

"  Nanine  I  "  cried  Marguerite,  "  show  a  light  to  the 
Count." 

We  heard  the  outer  door  open  and  shut. 

"  At  last  !  "  exclaimed  Marguerite,  reviving. 
"  That  youth  tries  my  nerves  horribly." 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Prudence,  "  you  are  really  too 
harsh  with  him  ;  he  who  is  so  good  and  so  considerate 
towards  you.  See  still  upon  your  chimney-piece  a 
watch  he  has  given  you,  and  which  must  have  cost 
him  at  least  a  thousand  francs,  I  am  sure  "  ;  and 
Madame  Duvernoy,  who  had  approached  the  mantel- 
piece, played  with  the  trinket  of  which  she  had 
spoken,  and  cast  upon  it  the  most  ardent  looks  of 
covetousness. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Marguerite,  seating  herself  at 
the  piano,  "  when  I  put  into  one  scale  what  he  gives 
me,  and  into  the  other  what  he  says  to  me,  I  find 
that  I  give  him  my  society  at  a  very  great  bar- 
gain." 

"  This  poor  fellow  is  in  love  with  you." 

"  If  I  were  bound  to  listen  to  all  who  were  in  love 
v/ith  me,  I  should  not  have  even  time  to  eat  my 
dinner."    And  she  ran  her  fingers  a  few  times  over 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS      83 

the  keys  of  the  piano  ;  after  which,  returning  to  us, 
she  said  : 

"  Will  j^ou  take  something  ?  I  should  like  a  little 
punch," 

"  And  I — I  could  eat  a  little  bit  of  chicken,"  said 
Prudence,  "  if  we  are  to  sup," 

"  That  is  the  idea  I  "  cried  Gaston.  "  Let  us  go 
and  sup," 

"  No,"  said  Marguerite,  "  we  are  going  to  have 
supper  here."    She  rang.    Nanine  appeared. 

"  Send  for  some  supper." 

"  What  must  it  be  ?  " 

"  What  you  please,  but  immediately."  Nanine 
went  out. 

"  That  is  it  !  "  said  Marguerite,  dancing  about  like 
a  child.  "  We  will  have  some  supper  !  How  weari- 
some that  stupid  Count  is  !  " 

The  more  I  saw  this  girl,  the  more  was  I  enchanted. 
She  was  fascinatingly  beautiful.  Even  the  spareness 
of  her  person  was  a  grace  in  itself,  instead  of  a  fault. 

I  was  lost  in  thought.  I  can  hardly  explain  my 
feelings,  I  was  full  of  indulgence  for  her  mode  of 
life,  full  of  admiration  for  her  beauty.  The  proof  of 
an  unmercenary  and  independent  spirit,  which  she 
gave  in  not  accepting  the  advances  of  a  man — young, 
rich  and  elegant — who  was  quite  ready  to  ruin 
himself  for  her,  excused,  in  my  eyes,  all  her  previous 
faults.    There  was  a  sincerity  about  this  girl. 

She  was  evidently  still  in  the  mere  girlhood  of 
vice.  Her  firm  step,  her  flexible  form,  her  expanded 
nostrils,  and  her  large  eyes  lightly  encircled  with 
blue,  denoted  one  of  those  ardent  natures,  which 
spread  around  them,  as  it  were,  a  perfume  of  voluptu- 
ousness ;  like  those  Oriental  flasks,  which,  lightly 
closed  as  they  may  be,  allow  the  escape  of  the  perfume 
of  the  essence  which  they  contain. 

Indeed,  whether  it  was  nature,  or  an  effect  of  her 


84       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

somewhat  morbid  condition  of  health,  there  seemed  to 
glance,  at  times,  from  the  eyes  of  this  woman,  a  light 
of  passion,  the  development  of  which  would  be  a 
dream  of  heaven  for  him  whom  she  should  love. 

But  those  who  loved  Marguerite  went  for  nothing 
in  this  view  ;  and  those  whom  she  had  seemed  to 
love,  for  still  less. 

In  short,  one  recognised  in  this  girl  the  virgin  whom 
some  accident  had  made  a  courtezan,  and  the 
courtezan,  of  whom  an  accident  would  have  made 
a  virgin  the  most  pure  and  loving.  She  had  still 
pride  and  independence — two  sentiments  which, 
when  wounded,  are  capable  of  evolving  the  emotion 
which  constitutes  modesty. 

While  such  thoughts  as  these  were  passing  through 
my  mind,  I  remained  silent.  My  soul  seemed  to  have 
passed  into  my  heart,  and  my  heart  into  my  eyes. 

"  It  was  you,  then,"  said  she  to  me,  suddenly, 
"  who  came  to  inquire  after  me  when  I  was  ill  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  know  that  was  very  pretty  ?  and  what 
can  I  do  to  thank  you  ?  " 

"  Permit  me  to  come  occasionally  to  see  you." 

"  As  often  as  you  please,  from  five  to  six  o'clock, 
or  from  eleven  o'clock  till  midnight.  I  say,  Gaston, 
play  me  the  '  Invitation  to  the  waltz.'  " 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  To  please  me,  in  the  first  instance  ;  and, 
secondly,  because  I  can't  manage  it  myself." 

"  What  is  the  difficulty  ?  " 

"  The  third  part — the  passage  in  sharps." 

Gaston  rose,  went  to  the  piano,  and  began  that 
marvellous  melody  of  Weber's,  the  music  of  which  was 
lying  open  on  the  piano. 

Marguerite,  with  one  hand  resting  on  the  piano,  read 
the  music  as  he  proceeded,  following  each  note  in  a 
low  tone  with  her  voice  ;  and  when  Gaston  came  to 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       85 

the  passage  of  which  she  had  complained,  she  sang 
it  and  played  it,  as  it  were,  with  her  fingers  on  the 
back  of  the  piano. 

"  Re,  mi,  r6,  do,  v6,  fa,  mi,  re.  There  !  that  is 
what  I  cannot  play.    Once  more  !  " 

Gaston  repeated  the  passage  ;  after  which  she 
said  : 

"  Now,  let  me  try." 

She  sat  down,  and  played  in  her  turn  ;  but  her 
rebellious  fingers  tripped  invariably  at  one  of  the  notes 
above  indicated. 

"  Now,  isn't  this  incredible  ?  "  said  she,  quite  in 
the  manner  of  a  child,  "  that  I  cannot  play  that 
passage  ?  Do  you  know,  I  try  it  sometimes  for  two 
hours  ?  And  when  I  think  that  that  stupid  Count 
plays  it  admirably,  and  without  the  notes  ! — I  believe 
it  is  that  which  makes  me  furious  with  him." 

And  she  began  again  ;  but  always  with  the  same 
result. 

"  The  deuce  take  Weber,  the  music,  and  the 
piano  ! "  exclaimed  she,  flinging  the  music  to  the  other 
end  of  the  room.  "  Can  you  understand  that  I 
cannot  play  eight  sharps  in  succession  ?  "  And  she 
folded  her  arms,  and  looked  at  us,  as  she  stood 
beating  the  floor  with  her  feet. 

Her  cheeks  flushed,  and  a  slight  cough  parted  her 
lips. 

"  See  now ! "  exclaimed  Prudence,  who  had 
removed  her  bonnet,  and  was  arranging  her  hair 
at  the  glass  ;  "  see  now  !  you  are  making  yourself 
angry,  and  will  be  ill.  Let  us  go  to  supper  ;  that 
will  be  much  better.  As  for  me,  I  am  dying  of 
hunger." 

Marguerite  rang  again,  and  then  sat  down  to  the 
piano,  where  she  began  singing  in  a  low  tone  a  song 
of  a  loose  character,  in  the  accompaniment  of  which 
she  found  no  difficulty. 


86      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Gaston  knew  the  song,  and,  joining  in,  formed  a 
sort  of  duet. 

"  Do  not  sing  those  vulgar  songs,"  said  I,  familiarly, 
to  Marguerite,  but  in  a  tone  of  entreaty. 

"  Oh  !  how  virtuous  you  are  !  "  said  she,  smiling, 
and  at  the  same  time  giving  me  her  hand. 

"  It  is  not  on  my  account,  but  yours." 

Marguerite  made  a  gesture,  which  seemed  to  say, 
"  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  had  anything  to  do  with 
such  simples." 

At  this  moment  Nanine  re-entered. 

"  Supper  is  ready  ?  "  demanded  Marguerite. 

"  In  one  moment,  Madame." 

"  Apropos,"  exclaimed  Prudence,  "  you  have  not 
seen  the  apartment.   Come,  and  I  will  show  it  to  you." 

(You  know  it.    The  salon  was  a  marvel.) 

Marguerite  accompanied  us  a  little  way  ;  then  she 
called  Gaston,  and  went  with  him  into  the  supper- 
room,  to  see  if  the  supper  was  ready. 

"  Look  !  "  exclaimed  Prudence,  loudly,  as  she  took 
from  a  bracket  a  little  statuette  of  porcelain,  "  I  did 
not  know  you  had  this  little  man  !  " 

"  Which  ?  " 

"  A  little  shepherd  with  a  bird-cage/* 

"  Take  it,  if  it  pleases  you." 

"  Oh  !  I  fear  to  deprive  you  of  it." 

"  I  was  about  to  give  it  to  my  maid  ;  I  think  it 
hideous.    But  as  it  pleases  you,  I  say  take  it." 

Prudence  saw  only  the  toy,  and  not  the  manner 
of  giving  it.  She  put  the  little  man  aside,  and  led 
me  into  the  drawing-room,  where,  showing  me  two 
miniatures  hanging  upon  the  wall,  she  said  : 

"  See,  here  is  the  Count  de  G ,  who  has  been 

terribly  in  love  with  Marguerite.  It  was  he  who 
brought  her  out.    Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  No.  And  this  ?  "  said  I,  indicating  another 
portrait. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       87 

"  That  is  the  little  Viscount  de  L .    He  was 

forced  to  take  his  leave." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"  Because  he  was  nearly  ruined.  Oh  !  he  was  a 
lover  of  Marguerite  1  " 

"  And  doubtless,  she  loved  him  also." 

"  She  is  such  an  odd  girl,  one  never  knows  what 
to  think.  The  evening  of  the  day  of  his  departure, 
she  was  at  the  theatre  as  usual.  And  yet  she  had 
wept  at  the  moment  of  his  leaving." 

At  this  moment  Nanine  came  again  to  announce 
supper. 

When  we  entered  the  supper-room,  Marguerite 
was  leaning  against  the  wall,  and  Gaston,  holding 
both  her  hands,  was  addressing  her  in  a  low 
tone. 

"  You  are  mad  !  "  said  Marguerite.  "  You  know 
that  I  won't  have  anything  to  say  to  you.  It  is  not 
after  knowing  a  girl  like  me  for  two  years  that 
one  asks  to  be  her  lover.  We  girls,  we  give 
ourselves  at  first,  or  never.  Come,  gentlemen,  to 
supper." 

And  escaping  from  the  hands  of  Gaston,  Marguerite 
made  him  sit  at  her  right,  and  myself  at  her  left. 
Then  she  said  to  Nanine  : 

"  Before  you  sit  down,  give  orders  that  whoever 
rings,  no  one  is  to  be  admitted." 

This  precautionary  order  was  given  at  one  o'clock 
in  the  morning  ! 

We  laughed,  and  drank,  and  ate  heartily  at  this 
supper.  In  a  few  minutes  merriment  had  attained 
its  height  ;  and  those  words  which  are  considered 
amusing  by  a  certain  class,  but  which  soil  the  lips 
of  those  that  utter  them,  were  heard  from  time  to 
time,  amid  shouts  of  laughter  from  Prudence,  from 
Nanine,  and  from  Marguerite.  Gaston  gave  himself 
up  to  the  spirit  of  the  hour ;  he  was  a  young  fellow 


88       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

full  of  heart,  whose  mind  had  been  somewhat  falsified 
by  his  earlier  habits. 

At  one  moment  I  was  half  inclined  to  harden  myself 
— make  my  thoughts  and  feelings  indifferent  to  what 
was  passing,  and  take  part  in  the  surrounding  gaiety 
— but,  little  by  little,  I  found  myself  isolated  from  the 
noise.  My  glass  remained  full,  and  I  had  become 
almost  sad,  in  regarding  this  beautiful  creature  of 
twenty,  who  drank,  talked  like  a  porter,  and  laughed 
all  the  louder  in  proportion  to  the  broadness  of  the 
jest  which  was  passing. 

Nevertheless,  the  gaiety,  this  mode  of  speaking 
which  would  have  appeared  to  me,  in  others,  the 
result  of  dissipation,  almost  of  debauchery,  seemed 
to  me,  in  Marguerite's  case,  the  result  of  a  feverish 
desire  for  forgetfulness  ;  or  of  great  nervous  irri- 
tability. 

At  each  glass  of  champagne  her  cheeks  reddened 
with  a  feverish  glow  ;  and  the  cough,  which  was 
slight  at  the  beginning  of  the  supper,  had  become 
at  length  strong  enough  to  force  her  to  lean  her  head 
upon  the  back  of  her  chair,  and  compress  her  chest 
in  her  hands  every  time  the  fit  seized  her. 

I  sighed  to  think  of  the  injury  that  every  day  of 
such  excess  must  inflict  upon  that  frail  organisation. 
At  last  a  crisis  arrived,  which  I  had  foreseen  and 
dreaded. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  supper,  Marguerite  was 
seized  with  a  violent  fit  of  coughing.  It  seemed  as  if 
her  chest  would  be  torn  in  pieces  with  the  convulsion. 
The  poor  girl  became  purple,  closed  her  eyes  with  the 
pain,  and  pressed  her  napkin  to  her  lips.  As  she 
removed  it,  it  was  stained  with  a  gush  of  blood.  She 
rose,  and  ran  into  her  dressing-room. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Marguerite  ?  "  exclaimed 
Gaston. 

"  She  has  laughed  too  much,  and  is  raising  blood/ 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       89 

said  Prudence.  "  Oh  !  it  will  be  nothing.  It  happens 
to  her  every  day.  Leave  her  alone  ;  she  likes  that 
best." 

But  I  could  not  take  this  view  of  the  matter ;  and, 
to  the  great  amazement  of  Prudence  and  Nanine, 
who  loudly  called  me  back,  I  went  to  join  Marguerite. 


CHAPTER  X 

The  chamber  in  which  she  had  taken  refuge  was 
lighted  by  only  a  single  candle  placed  upon  a  table. 
Thrown  back  upon  a  large  sofa,  with  her  dress  un- 
fastened, she  pressed  one  hand  to  her  chest,  while 
the  other  drooped  listlessly  by  her  side.  On  the  table 
was  a  silver  basin,  half  filled  with  water  ;  this  water 
was  streaked  with  jets  of  blood. 

Marguerite,  pale  and  with  lips  apart,  was  panting 
for  breath.  At  times  her  chest  heaved  with  a  pro- 
longed sigh,  the  exhalation  of  which  seemed  to 
relieve  her  somewhat,  and  to  give  her  a  few  minutes 
of  ease. 

I  approached  her  without  any  movement  on  her 
part  ;  seated  myself  beside  her,  and  took  the  hand 
which  drooped  upon  the  sofa. 

"  Ah,  it  is  you  !  "  said  she,  smiling. 

My  countenance  must  have  betrayed  my  distress, 
for  she  added  : 

"  Are  you  ill  also  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  you  ?    You  suffer  still  ?  " 

"  But  little  ;  "  and  she  dried  with  her  handker- 
chief the  tears  which  the  cough  had  brought  to  her 
eyes.    "  I  am  accustomed  to  this  now." 

"  You  will  kill  yourself,  Madame,"  said  I,  with  a 
voice  which  showed  my  emotion.  "  I  wish  I  were  your 
friend,  or  your  relative,  to  prevent  you  from  injuring 
yourself  thus." 

"  Oh  I  it  is  not  really  worth  the  trouble  of  alarming 
yourself  about,"  replied  she,  with  some  bitterness, 

90 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       91 

"  See  how  the  others  concern  themselves  about  me  I 
They  know  that  nothing  can  be  done  for  me." 

After  which  she  rose,  and,  taking  the  candle,  placed 
it  upon  the  mantel-piece,  and  looked  at  herself  in 
the  glass, 

"  How  pale  I  am  !  "  said  she,  as  she  refastened  her 
dress,  and  passed  her  fingers  through  her  dishevelled 
hair.  "  Well,  never  mind !  Let  us  return  to  the  table. 
Will  you  come  ?  " 

But  I  was  seated,  and  I  did  not  stir. 

She  understood  the  emotion  which  this  scene  had 
caused  me  ;  for  she  approached,  and,  offering  me  her 
hand,  said : 

"  There  now  ;  come  !  " 

I  took  her  hand,  and,  raising  it  to  my  lips,  dropped 
upon  it,  despite  myself,  a  tear,  which  I  had  long 
suppressed. 

"  What  1  are  you  a  child,  then  ?  "  said  she, 
reseating  herself  beside  me  ;  "  you  are  weeping  ! 
What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  I  must  seem  to  you  very  silly  ;  but  what  I  have 
just  seen  has  grieved  me  sadly." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  But  what  would  you  have  ? 
I  can't  sleep,  and  I  must  amuse  myself  in  some  way. 
And  besides,  girls  like  me, — one  more  or  one  less — 
what  does  it  matter  ?  The  doctors  tell  me  that  the 
blood  which  I  raise  comes  from  my  throat.  I  pretend 
to  believe  them  ;  that  is  the  most  I  can  do  for  them." 

"  Listen  to  me.  Marguerite,"  exclaimed  I,  with 
a  warmth  I  could  not  suppress.  "  I  do  not  know 
the  influence  you  are  destined  to  exercise  upon  my 
career  ;  but  this  I  know — that,  at  this  moment, 
there  is  no  one,  not  even  my  sister,  in  whom  I  take  an 
interest  as  in  you.  It  has  been  so,  ever  since  I  first 
saw  you.  I  entreat  you,  then,  to  take  care  of  your- 
self, and  not  persist  in  living  as  you  do." 

"  If  I  were  to  take  care  of  myself  I  should  die.   That 


92       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

which  alone  sustains  me  is  tlie  feverish  life  which  1 
lead.  Besides,  to  '  take  care  of  one's  self  '  is  very 
well  for  ladies  in  society,  who  have  family  and  friends  ; 
but  we,  from  the  moment  that  we  can  no  longer 
minister  to  the  vanity  or  the  pleasure  of  our  lovers, 
they  abandon  us,  and  long  days  are  succeeded  by 
longer  nights,  I  know  it  well,  for  I  have  been  for 
two  months  confined  to  my  bed  ;  after  the  first  three 
weeks  no  one  came  near  me." 

"  It  is  true  that  I  am  nothing  to  you,"  I  replied  ; 
"  but  if  you  are  willing  that  I  should  tend  you  like 
a  brother,  I  will  not  leave  you,  and  I  will  cure  you. 
Then,  when  you  have  recovered  your  strength,  you 
shall,  if  you  please,  resume  the  life  that  you  now 
lead  ;  but  I  am  confident  that  you  would  much 
prefer  a  tranquil  existence,  which  would  render  you 
more  happy  and  preserve  your  beauty." 

"  You  think  thus  to-night,  because  the  wine  has 
made  you  melancholy  ;  but  you  would  not  have 
the  patience  of  which  you  boast." 

"  Permit  me  to  remind  you.  Marguerite,  you  have 
been  ill  for  two  months,  and  that  during  these  two 
months  I  called  every  day  to  inquire  after  you." 

"  That  is  true  ;  but  why  did  you  not  come  up  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  not  then  acquainted  with  you." 

"  Do  people  stand  upon  ceremony  with  a  girl  like 
me  ?  " 

"  One  should  always  be  respectful  towards  a  lady  ; 
at  least,  such  is  my  doctrine." 

"  And  so  you  will  nurse  me  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  will  stay  with  me  every  day  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  every  night  also  ?  " 

"  At  all  times  that  I  do  not  annoy  you." 

"  And  what  do  you  call  that  ?  " 

"  Devotion." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       93 

"  And  vvlience  comes  this  devotion  ?  " 

"  From  an  irresistible  sympathy  which  I  feel  for 
you." 

"  You  are  in  love  with  me,  then  ?  Say  so  at  once  ; 
it  is  much  simpler." 

"  It  is  possible  that  I  am  so  ;  but  if  I  am  destined 
to  tell  you  so  at  some  time  or  other,  it  is  not  to-day." 

"  You  will  do  better  never  to  tell  me  so." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  there  can  result  from  such  an  avowal 
but  two  things." 

"  And  those ?  " 

"  Are,  that  either  I  do  not  accept  you,  and  you  are 
angry, — or  I  do  accept  you,  and  you  have  a  melan- 
choly mistress  ;  a  woman  who  is  nervous,  sickly, 
and  sad, — or  gay  with  a  gaiety  more  melancholy 
than  sadness  itself  ;  a  woman  who  raises  blood  from 
her  lungs,  and  who  spends  100,000  francs  a  year, 
which  is  very  well  for  a  nice  old  man  like  the  Duke, 
but  very  unsuitable  for  a  young  man  like  you  ;  the 
proof  of  which  is,  that  all  the  young  lovers  I  have 
had,  have  very  soon  left  me." 

I  made  no  answer  ;  I  listened.  This  frankness, 
which  was  almost  a  confession, — ^this  unhappy  life 
of  which  I  caught  a  glimpse,  through  the  gilded  veil 
which  covered  it,  and  from  the  reality  of  which  the 
poor  girl  sought  refuge  in  dissipation,  excess,  and  late 
hours, — all  this  impressed  m^e  so  deeply  that  I  could 
not  utter  a  word. 

"  Come  1  "  continued  Marguerite,  "  we  are  talking 
nonsense.  Give  me  your  hand,  and  let  us  return  to 
the  supper-room.  They  will  be  wondering  at  our 
absence." 

"  Do  you  return,  if  you  please  to  do  so  ;  but  I  ask 
your  permission  to  remain  here." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  your  gaiety  distresses  me." 


94       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  will  be  sad." 

"  Listen,  Marguerite  ;  allow  me  to  say  something 
that  you  have,  no  doubt,  heard  very  often,  and  to 
which  the  habit  of  hearing  it  may  indispose  you  to 
give  faith  ;  but  which  is,  nevertheless,  true,  and 
which  I  shall,  perhaps,  never  repeat  to  you." 

''  And  that  is ?  "  said  she,  with  a  smile  with 

which  a  young  mother  listens  to  some  folly  of  her 
child. 

"  That  is,  that  since  I  have  seen  you,  I  do  not  know 
how  nor  why,  but  you  have  taken  a  place  in  my 
life  ;  it  is  that  I  have  repeatedly  driven  your  image 
from  my  thoughts,  but  it  has  constantly  returned  ; 
it  is  that  to-day,  when  I  met  you,  after  two  years 
had  elapsed  without  my  seeing  you,  you  assumed  a 
still  more  complete  ascendancy  over  my  heart  and 
mind  ;  it  is,  finally,  that  now  that  you  have  received 
me,  now  that  I  know  you — now  that  I  perceive  all 
that  is  remarkable  in  your  character,  you  have  become 
indispensable  to  me,  and  that  I  shall  become  mad,  not 
only  if  you  do  not  love  me,  but  if  you  do  not  allow 
me  to  love  you." 

"  But,  unhappy  man  that  you  are,  I  must  say  to 
you,  like  Madame  D.,  '  You  are  very  rich,  then  ?  ' 
But  you  do  not  know  that  I  expend  six  or  seven  thou- 
sand francs  a  month,  and  that  this  expenditure  has 
become  necessary  to  my  existence  ?  You  do  not 
realise,  then,  my  poor  friend,  that  I  should  ruin 
you  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  and  that  your 
family  would  cast  you  off,  for  living  with  a  creature 
such  as  I  am  ?  Love  me  if  you  will — love  me  as 
a  dear  friend ;  but  not  otherwise.  Come  to  see 
me — we  will  laugh  and  talk ;  but  do  not  exaggerate 
to  yourself  the  little  that  I  am  worth  ;  for  I  am, 
really,  not  worth  much.  You  have  a  good  heart, 
you  need  someone  to  love  you ;  you  are  too 
young,  and  have  too  much  feeling  to  live  in  our 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       95 

world.  Make  love  to  a  married  woman  1  You  see 
that  I  am  a  good  girl,  and  that  I  speak  to  you 
frankly.'* 

"  Ah  1  there  now  I  What  the  deuce  are  you  about, 
there  ?  "  cried  Prudence,  whose  approach  we  had  not 
remarked. 

"  We  are  talking  sense,"  said  Marguerite.  "  Leave 
us  for  a  moment,  and  we  will  join  you  presently." 

"  Oh !  very  well,  very  well  !  talk  away,  my 
children,"  said  Prudence,  withdrawing  and  closing  the 
door,  as  if  to  add  force  to  the  tone  with  which  she  had 
pronounced  these  last  words. 

"  It  is  agreed,  then,"  said  Marguerite,  when  we 
were  alone,  "  you  are  not  to  love  me  any  longer  ?  " 

"  I  will  go  away." 

"  Has  it  reached  that  point  ?  " 

I  had  advanced  too  far  to  retreat  ;  and,  besides, 
this  girl  attracted  me  irresistibly.  This  mixture  of 
gaiety,  of  sadness,  of  candour,  and  of  irregular  life  ; 
even  this  illness,  which  developed  at  once  her  sus- 
ceptibility of  feeling,  and  her  nervous  excitability  ; 
all  this  made  me  feel,  that  if,  from  the  first  moment, 
I  did  not  assume  the  empire  over  this  fitful  and 
spiritual  temperament,  she  was  lost  to  me  for  ever. 

"  Come  now,"  said  she,  "  is  all  this  in  earnest  that 
you  are  saying  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  so." 

"  But  why  did  you  not  say  it  sooner  ?  " 

"  When  could  I  have  said  it  ?  " 

"  The  day  after  being  introduced  to  me  at  the 
Op^ra  Comique." 

"  I  think  that  you  would  have  received  me  any- 
thing but  agreeably  if  I  had  called  to  see  you  then." 

"  Why  so  ?  " 

"  Because  I  had  been  stupid  on  the  previous  day." 

"  That  is  true.  But,  nevertheless,  you  already 
loved,  even  at  that  time  ?  " 


96       THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Yes." 

"  Which  did  not,  however,  prevent  you  from  going 
home  to  bed,  and  sleeping  very  tranquilly,  after  the 
performance.  We  know  what  these  grand  passions 
are  !  " 

"  But  it  is  you  who  are  mistaken.  Do  you  know 
what  I  really  did  on  the  night  of  the  Opera  Comique  ? " 

"  No." 

"  I  followed  you  to  the  door  of  the  Cafe  Anglais, 
waited  there,  and  followed  thence  the  carriage  which 
contained  you  and  your  three  friends  ;  and  when 
I  saw  you  enter  your  own  house  alone,  I  was  very 
happy." 

Marguerite  began  to  laugh. 

"  Why  are  you  laughing  ?  " 

"  At  notliing." 

"  Tell  me,  I  entreat  you  ;  or  I  shall  believe  that 
you  are  still  mocking  me." 

"  You  will  not  be  angry  ?  " 

"  What  right  have  I  to  be  so  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  must  know,  I  had  a  good 
reason  for  entering  alone." 

"  And  that  was ?  " 

"  Someone  was  waiting  for  me." 

Had  she  given  me  a  blow  with  a  dagger,  I  had  not 
felt  the  wound  more  severely.  I  rose,  and  offering 
her  my  hand — 

"  Adieu  !  "  said  I. 

"  I  knew  very  well  that  you  would  be  annoyed," 
said  she.  "  Men  are  wild  to  learn  just  what  will 
vex  them  most." 

"  But  I  assure  you,"  added  I,  coldly,  and  to  prove 
that  I  was  for  ever  cured  of  my  passion — "  I  assure 
you  that  I  am  not  angry.  It  was  very  natural  that 
someone  should  be  waiting  for  you,  and  it  is  also 
very  natural  that  I  should  take  my  leave  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       97 

"  Have  you,  then,  also  someone  waiting  for  you 
at  home  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  I  must  go." 

"  Adieu,  then." 

"  You  dismiss  me  ?  " 

"  Not  the  least  in  the  world." 

"  Why,  then,  do  you  pain  me  thus  ?  " 

"  What  pain  have  I  given  you  ?  " 

"  You  tell  me  that  someone  was  waiting  for  you." 

"  I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  idea  that  you 
were  so  delighted  at  seeing  me  return  home  alone, 
when  there  was  so  good  a  reason  for  it." 

"  One  often  makes  a  pleasure  of  a  weakness,  and  it 
is  cruel  to  destroy  that  pleasure,  when  by  allowing 
it  to  continue,  the  person  who  enjoys  it  is  rendered 
happier  than  before." 

"  But  with  whom,  then,  do  you  fancy  that  you  have 
to  do  ?  I  am  neither  a  virgin  nor  a  duchess.  I  have 
only  made  your  acquaintance  to-day,  and  owe  you 
no  account  of  my  actions.  Admitting  that  I  might, 
one  day,  become  your  mistress,  you  must  very  well 
know  that  I  have  had  other  lovers  than  yourself. 
If  you  make  '  scenes  '  of  jealousy  beforehand,  what 
would  it  be  afterwards — if  the  '  afterwards '  should 
ever  exist  ?    I  never  saw  such  a  man  !  " 

"  That  is  because  no  one  has  ever  loved  you  as  I 
love  you." 

"  Come  now,  frankly — you  really  love  me  so  very 
much  ?  " 

"  As  much  as  it  is  possible  to  love,  I  think.'* 

"  And  this  has  continued  since " 

"  Since  one  day  when  I  saw  you  descend  from  a 

caleche  and  enter  Suisse's  shop,  some  three  years  ago." 

"  Do  you  know  that  this  is  very  pretty  of  you  ? 

And  what  must  I  do  to  show  my  gratitude  for  so 

much  love  ?  " 

"  You  must  endeavour  to  love  me  a  little,"  said  I, 


gS      THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

with  a  palpitation  of  the  heart  which  almost  pre- 
vented me  from  speaking  ;  for,  despite  the  half- 
sarcastic  smiles  with  which  she  had  accompanied 
the  conversation,  it  appeared  to  me  that  Marguerite 
began  to  share  my  feelings,  and  that  I  approached  the 
hour  so  long  and  anxiously  desired. 

"  And  the  Duke,  then  ?  " 

"  What  Duke  ?  " 

"  My  jealous  old  friend." 

"  He  will  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  But  if  he  should  know  it  ?  " 

"  He  will  forgive  you  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  no.  He  will  abandon  me  ;  and  what 
will  then  become  of  me  ?  " 

"  You  risk  that  abandonment  already,  for  another." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  By  the  orders  which  you  gave  to-night,  that  no 
one  else  should  be  admitted." 
•  ■  "  It  is  true  ;  but  he  is  a  real  friend." 

"  Whom  you  do  not  care  much  about,  since  you 
close  your  door  against  him." 

"It  is  not  for  you  to  reproach  me  for  so  doing, 
since  it  was  to  receive  yourself  and  your  friend." 

I  had  gradually  approached  Marguerite,  and 
clasped  my  hands  around  her  waist,  and  I  could 
perceive  that  her  slight  form  rested  gently  upon  my 
joined  hands. 

"If  you  but  knew  how  I  love  you  !  "  whispered  I 
to  her. 

"  In  very  truth  ?  " 

"  I  swear  it  to  you  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  promise  to  obey  all  my  wishes, 
without  uttering  a  word,  without  remonstrance  and 
without  question,  I  will  love — perhaps." 

"  Everything  that  you  please  !  " 

"  But  I  give  you  fair  warning,  that  I  must  be  free 
to  do  exactly  what  seems  good  to  me,  without  giving 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS       99 

you  the  slightest  explanation  on  the  subject.  I 
have  long  sought  a  lover,  young  without  wilfulness, 
fond  without  distrust,  who  could  be  loved  without 
claiming  any  right  to  be  so.  I  have  never  been  able 
to  find  such  a  one.  Men,  instead  of  being  satisfied 
that  we  accord  to  them  for  a  long  time  that  which 
they  hardly  hoped  to  obtain  even  once,  demand  from 
their  mistress  an  account  of  the  past,  the  present, 
and  even  the  future  !  In  proportion  as  they  become 
habituated  to  her  they  seek  to  govern  her ;  and  they 
become  only  more  exacting  for  every  concession  that 
is  made  to  them.  If  I  now  decide  to  accept  a  new 
lover,  I  shall  wish  him  to  possess  three  very  rare 
qualities — that  is,  to  be  confiding,  submissive,  and 
discreet." 

"  Very  well ;  I  shall  be  all  that  you  can  wish." 

"  We  shall  see." 

"  And  when  shall  we  see  ?  " 

"  By  and  by." 

"  Why  not  now  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  not  always  possible  to  execute 
treaties  on  the  day  of  their  signature." 

"  And  when  may  I  see  you  again  ?  "  said  I,  clasp- 
ing her  in  my  arms. 

"  To-morrow  between  eleven  o'clock  and  mid- 
night.   Are  you  content  ?  " 

"  Can  you  ask  me  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word  of  all  this  to  your  friend,  nor  to 
Prudence,  nor  to  anyone  whatever." 

"  Depend  upon  me." 

"  Now  then,  embrace  me,  and  let  us  return  to  the 
supper-room." 

She  offered  me  her  lips,  arranged  her  hair,  and  we 
issued  from  the  chamber,  she  singing  and  I  half  mad 
with  joy. 

In  the  drawing-room  she  whispered  to  me,  pausing 
for  a  moment — 


roo     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  It  must  seem  very  strange  to  you  that  I  should 
appear  ready  to  accept  you  so  suddenly  ;  do  you 
know  the  cause  of  it  ? 

"  It  is  because,"  she  continued,  taking  my  hand  and 
placing  it  upon  her  heart,  which  palpitated  violently, 
"  it  is  because,  having  less  time  to  live  than  others,  I 
have  promised  myself  that  I  will  live  faster." 

"  Do  not  speak  thus  to  me,  I  entreat  you." 

"  Oh  1  do  not  distress  yourself,"  said  she  laughing. 
"  However  short  a  time  I  may  have  to  live,  I  shall 
live  longer  than  you  will  love  me." 

And  she  entered  the  supper-room,  singing  gaily. 

"  Where  is  Nanine  ?  "  said  she,  on  seeing  Gaston 
and  Prudence  alone. 

"  She  is  asleep  in  your  chamber,  waiting  till  you  are 
ready  to  go  bed,"  answered  Prudence. 

"  Poor  girl !  I  kill  her  with  my  late  hours.  Come, 
gentlemen,  it  is  time  for  you  to  retire." 

Ten  minutes  afterwards,  Gaston  and  I  took  our 
leave.  Marguerite  pressed  my  hand,  as  she  bade 
me  adieu,  and  remained  with  Prudence. 

"  Well,"  said  Gaston,  as  we  went  out, "  what  do  you 
say  to  Marguerite  ?  " 

"  She  is  an  angel  ;  and  I  am  really  in  love  with 
her  1  " 

"  I  suspected  as  much.    Have  you  told  her  so  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  she  has  promised  to  believe  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  That  is  not  the  case  with  Prudence.  You  would 
hardly  believe  it,  but  she  is  still  a  fine  woman,  that 
fat  Duvernoy." 


CHAPTER  XI 

At  this  stage  of  his  narrative  Armand  paused. 

"  Will  you  shut  the  window  ?  "  said  he  to  me  ; 
"  I  begin  to  feel  cold.    Meantime,  I  will  get  into  bed." 

I  shut  the  window.  Armand,  who  was  still  very 
feeble,  took  off  his  dressing-gown  and  got  into  bed  ; 
laying  his  head  for  a  few  minutes  upon  the  pillow 
like  a  man  fatigued  by  a  long  walk  or  agitated  by 
painful  recollections. 

"  You  have  perhaps  talked  too  much,"  said  I  ; 
"  do  you  wish  that  I  should  go  and  leave  you  to 
sleep  ?  You  shall  relate  to  me  another  day  the  end 
of  this  history." 

"  Does  it  weary  you  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary." 

"  I  shall  continue,  then  ;  if  you  left  me  alone  I 
should  not  sleep." 

When  I  returned  home  (resumed  he),  I  did  not 
go  to  bed  ;  I  began  to  reflect  upon  the  adventure 
of  the  day.  The  meeting,  the  presentation.  Mar- 
guerite's engagement  with  me,  all  had  been  so  rapid, 
so  unhoped  for,  that  there  were  moments  when  I 
thought  I  had  been  dreaming.  It  was  not,  however, 
the  first  time  that  a  girl  like  Marguerite  had  promised 
herself  to  a  man  for  the  morrow  of  the  day  when  he 
had  sought  her. 

It  was  necessary  for  me  to  make  this  reflection, 
for  the  first  impression  produced  upon  me  by  my 
future  mistress  was  so  strong  that  it  still  subsisted.    I 

lOI 


102     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

was  resolute  not  to  see  in  her  a  girl  like  others,  and 
with  the  vanity  so  common  to  all  men  ;  I  was  led  to 
believe  that  she  felt  irresistibly  for  me  the  same 
affection  that  I  had  for  her. 

Nevertheless,  I  had  under  my  eyes  examples  very 
contradictory  ;  and  I  had  often  heard  it  said  that 
Marguerite's  love  was  a  sort  of  commodity  more  or 
less  costly  according  to  the  season. 

But  how,  also,  on  the  other  hand,  to  reconcile  this 
reputation  with  the  continual  refusals  made  to  the 
young  Count,  whom  we  had  found  at  her  house  ? 
You  will  tell  me  that  he  did  not  please  her,  and  that, 
as  she  was  splendidly  maintained  by  the  Duke,  if 
she  went  so  far  as  to  take  another  lover,  she  preferred 
to  take  one  who  pleased  her.  Why,  then,  would  she 
have  nothing  to  say  to  Gaston,  who  was  charming, 
rich,  and  witty :  and  seemed  to  prefer  me,  whom  she 
had  found  so  ridiculous  the  first  time  she  saw  me  ? 

It  is  true  that  there  are  sometimes  incidents  of  a 
minute,  which  affect  us  more  than  the  events  of  a 
whole  year. 

Of  those  who  were  at  supper,  I  was  the  only  one 
who  was  disquieted  by  seeing  her  quit  the  table.  I 
had  followed  her ;  I  was  moved,  and  not  able  to  hide 
it  ;  I  had  shed  tears  when  kissing  her  hand.  This 
circumstance,  united  to  my  daily  visits  during  the 
two  months  of  her  illness,  might  have  caused  her  to 
see  in  me  a  different  man  from  those  she  had  known 
until  then  ;  and  perhaps  she  had  said  to  herself  that 
she  might  very  well  grant  for  an  affection  expressed 
in  this  manner  what  she  had  already  granted  so 
many  times  that  it  no  longer  had  any  importance  for 
her. 

All  these  suppositions,  as  you  see,  were  probable 
enough  ;  but  whatever  m.ight  have  been  the  reason  of 
her  consent,  there  was  one  thing  certain,  that  is,  that 
she  had  consented. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     103 

Now  I  was  in  love  with  Marguerite  ;  I  was  about 
to  possess  her,  and  I  could  ask  nothing  more  from 
her.  However,  I  repeat  to  you,  that  although  she  was 
only  what  she  was,  I  had  made  of  this  affection,  to 
such  a  degree,  a  hopeless  love — perhaps  to  make  it 
poetic — that  the  nearer  the  moment  approached  when 
I  should  no  longer  even  have  the  necessity  of  hoping, 
the  more  I  doubted. 

I  did  not  close  my  eyes  during  the  night. 

I  did  not  know  myself.  I  was  half  mad.  Now, 
I  did  not  think  myself  handsome  enough,  nor  rich 
enough,  nor  elegant  enough  to  possess  such  a  woman  ; 
now,  I  felt  myself  filled  with  vanity  at  the  idea  of 
such  a  possession  ;  then  I  began  to  fear  that  Mar- 
guerite had  only  a  caprice  for  me,  which  would  last 
but  a  few  days  ;  and,  having  a  presentiment  of  evil 
in  a  prompt  rupture,  I  should  perhaps  do  best,  I  said 
to  myself,  not  to  go  to  her  in  the  evening,  but  to  with- 
draw altogether  on  writing  to  her  my  fears.  From 
that  I  passed  to  unlimited  hope — to  an  unbounded 
confidence.  I  had  incredible  dreams  of  the  future  ; 
I  said  to  myself  that  this  girl  should  owe  to  me  her 
physical  and  moral  recovery  ;  that  I  would  pass  all 
my  life  with  her  ;  and  that  her  love  would  render 
me  happier  than  the  affection  of  the  chastest  maiden. 

In  fact,  I  could  not  repeat  to  you  the  thousand 
thoughts  which  mounted  from  my  heart  to  my  head, 
and  which  passed  away  little  by  little  in  the  sleep 
which  gained  upon  me  towards  day. 

When  I  awoke  it  was  two  o'clock.  The  weather  was 
magnificent.  I  cannot  remember  that  life  had  ever 
appeared  to  me  so  beautiful  and  so  rich.  The  recol- 
lections of  the  previous  day  were  represented  to  my 
spirit  without  a  shadow,  without  obstacles,  and  gaily 
surrounded  by  my  hopes  of  the  evening.  I  hastily 
dressed  myself.  I  was  happy,  and  capable  of  better 
actions.    From  time  to  time  my  heart  bounded  in  my 


104     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

breast  with  joy  and  love.  I  felt  a  feverish,  yet  pleasant 
excitement.  I  no  longer  troubled  myself  with  the 
reasons  which  had  preoccupied  me  before  I  slept  ; 
I  saw  but  the  result.  I  thought  but  of  the  hour  when 
I  was  again  to  see  Marguerite. 

It  was  impossible  for  me  to  stay  at  home.  My  room 
appeared  to  be  too  small  to  contain  my  happiness  ; 
I  required  the  open  air  of  nature  to  give  me  room 
to  breathe.    I  went  out. 

I  passed  along  the  Rue  d'Antin.  Marguerite's 
brougham  awaited  her  at  her  door,  I  proceeded 
towards  the  Champs  Elysees.  I  loved,  without  even 
knowing  them,  everybody  that  I  met. 

How  amiable  and  gentle  love  makes  one  ! 

At  the  close  of  the  hour  during  which  I  had  walked 
from  the  Chevaux  de  Marly  to  the  fountain  at  the 
cross-roads,  and  from  the  fountain  back  again  to  the 
Chevaux  de  Marly,  I  saw  at  a  distance  Marguerite's 
carriage — I  did  not  know  it  ;   I  divined  it. 

At  the  moment  of  turning  the  angle  of  the  Champs 
Elysees  she  stopped,  and  a  tall  young  man  left  the 
group  with  whom  he  was  conversing  to  speak  with 
her. 

They  conversed  for  a  few  minutes  ;  the  young  man 
rejoined  his  friends  ;  the  horses  went  on  ;  and  I,  who 
liad  approached  the  group,  recognised  in  him  who  had 

si3oken  to  Marguerite  the  Count  de  G ,  whose 

portrait  I  had  seen,  and  whom  Prudence  had  pointed 
out  to  me  as  the  person  to  whom  Marguerite  owed 
her  position. 

It  was  against  him  that  she  had  closed  her  door 
the  previous  day.  I  supposed  that  she  had  stopped 
her  carriage  to  give  him  the  reason  of  this  refusal ; 
and  I  hoped  that  at  the  same  time  she  had  found 
some  new  pretext  for  not  receiving  him  the  following 
night. 

How  the  rest  of  the  day  was  passed  I  am  ignorant. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     105 

I  walked,  I  smoked,  I  conversed  ;  but  what  I  said, 
whom  I  met,  at  ten  o'clock  at  night  I  had  no  recollec- 
tion whatever. 

All  I  remember  is  that  I  returned  home,  that  I  passed 
three  hours  over  my  toilette,  and  that  I  looked  a 
hundred  times  at  my  clock  and  my  watch  which, 
unluckily,  told  precisely  the  same  story. 

When  the  clock  struck  half-past  ten,  I  said  to 
myself  that  it  was  time  to  go. 

I  lived  then  in  the  Rue  de  Provence.  I  followed 
the  Rue  du  Mont  Blanc.  I  crossed  the  Boulevard, 
took  the  Rue  Louis-le-Grand,  the  Rue  de  Port  Mahon, 
and  the  Rue  d'Antin.  I  looked  up  at  the  windows 
of  Marguerite's  apartment.    There  was  a  light  there. 

I  rang, 

I  asked  the  porter  if  Mademoiselle  Gautier  was  at 
home. 

He  answered  me  that  she  never  returned  before 
eleven  o'clock  or  a  quarter  past  eleven. 

I  looked  at  my  watch. 

I  believed  I  had  walked  very  gently  ;  but  I  had 
not  taken  more  than  five  minutes  to  come  from  the 
Rue  de  Provence  to  Marguerite's  house  ! 

Then  I  paced  up  and  down  the  street,  which  was 
without  shops,  and  deserted  at  that  hour. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  Marguerite  arrived. 
She  stepped  from  her  brougham,  looking  around  her 
as  if  she  were  seeking  for  someone. 

The  carriage  went  away  slowly,  the  stables  and 
coach-house  not  being  attached  to  the  house.  At 
the  moment  when  Marguerite  was  about  to  ring, 
I  approached  and  said  to  her  : 

"  Good  evening." 

"  Ah  !  is  it  you  ?  "  she  replied,  in  a  tone  but  little 
reassuring  as  to  the  pleasure  she  felt  in  finding  me 
there. 

"  Did  you  not  permit  me  to  visit  you  to-day  ?  " 


io6     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  That  is  true  ;  I  had  forgotten  it." 

That  word  overthrew  my  reflections  of  the  morning, 
and  my  hopes  of  the  day.  However,  I  had  begun 
to  habituate  myself  to  her  pecuHarities,  and  I  did  not 
go  av/ay,  as  I  certainly  should  have  done  formerly. 

We  entered. 

Nanine  had  opened  the  door  beforehand. 

"  Has  Prudence  returned  ?  "  asked  Marguerite. 

"  No,  Madame." 

"  Go  and  say  that  the  moment  she  returns  she  is 
to  come  to  me.  But  first,  put  out  the  lamp  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  if  anyone  calls  say  that  I  have 
not  returned,  and  that  I  shall  not  return." 

She  was  evidently  preoccupied  by  something,  and 
perhaps  annoyed  by  an  importunate  visitor.  I  did 
not  know  what  countenance  to  assume,  nor  what 
to  say.  Marguerite  proceeded  towards  her  bed- 
chamber ;  I  remained  where  I  was. 

"  Come,"  said  she  to  me. 

She  took  off  her  bonnet  and  velvet  mantle  and 
threw  them  upon  the  table  ;  then  she  let  herself 
fall  into  a  large  easy-chair,  near  the  fire,  which  she 
caused  to  be  kept  up  to  the  very  commencement  of 
summer  ;  and  said  to  me,  as  she  played  with  the 
chain  of  her  watch  : 

"  Well,  what  news  have  you  to  tell  me  ?  "^ 

"  Nothing,  unless  that  I  was  wrong  in  coming  this 
evening." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  you  appear  to  be  vexed,  and  no  doubt 
I  annoy  you." 

"  You  do  not  annoy  me,  but  I  am  ill.  I  have 
suffered  the  whole  day.  I  have  not  slept,  and  have 
a  fearful  headache." 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  retire,  to  allow  you  to  get 
into  bod  ?  " 

"  Oh,  5'ou  can  remain." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     107 

At  this  moment  someone  rang  the  bell, 

"Who  comes  there  now?  "  she  said  with  a  move- 
ment of  impatience. 

A  few  minutes  after  the  bell  rang  again. 

"So  there  is  no  one  to  open  the  door;  it  will 
be  necessary  for  me  to  open  it  myself." 

And  in  fact  she  rose,  saying  to  me — 

"  Wait  here." 

She  crossed  the  apartment,  and  I  heard  the  front 
door  open.    I  listened. 

He  to  whom  she  had  opened  the  door  stopped  in 
the  dining-room.  At  the  first  words  that  he  uttered 
I  recognised  the  voice  of  the  young  Count  de  N . 

"  How  are  you  this  evening  ?  "  said  he. 

"  111,"  drily  replied  Marguerite. 

"  Do  I  annoy  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  How  you  receive  me  I  What  have  I  done  to  you, 
my  dear  Marguerite  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  you  have  done  nothing  to  me. 
I  am  ill ;  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  go  to  bed  ;  you 
will,  therefore,  do  me  the  kindness  of  going  away.  It 
v/earies  me  to  death  not  to  be  able  to  return  home 
of  an  evening  without  seeing  you  appear  five  minutes 
afterwards.  What  is  it  that  you  want  ?  That  I 
should  be  your  mistress  ?  Very  well !  I  have  already 
told  you  a  hundred  times  that  you  annoy  me  most 
horribly,  and  that  you  can  address  yourself  in  other 
quarters.  I  repeat  it  to  you  to-day,  for  the  last  time 
— I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  you  ;  that  is  well 
understood.  Now,  adieu !  Ah,  here  is  Nanine 
coming  in;  she  will  light  you  out.   Goodnight." 

And,  v/ithout  adding  a  word,  without  listening 
to  what  the  young  man  was  stammering.  Marguerite 
returned  to  her  room  and  violently  closed  the  door  ; 
by  which  Nanine,  in  her  turn,  entered  almost  immedi- 
ately. 


io8     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  You  hear  me  !  "  said  Marguerite  to  her  ;  "  you 
will  always  tell  that  stupid  fellow  that  I  am  not  here, 
or  that  I  will  not  receive  him.  I  am  tired  at  last  of 
perpetually  seeing  people  who  come  to  ask  the  same 
thing  of  me  ;  who  pay  me,  and  then  believe  them- 
selves quits  with  me.  If  those  who  enter  on  our 
shameful  vocation  knew  what  it  was,  they  would 
sooner  become  chamberm.aids.  But  no  :  the  vanity 
of  having  dresses,  carriages  and  diamonds  drags  us 
along.  We  believe  in  what  we  hear  ;  for  our  sort 
of  life  has  its  creed  ;  and  one  consumes,  little  by 
little,  one's  heart,  one's  body,  one's  beauty.  We  are 
feared  like  savage  beasts,  despised  as  pariahs.  We 
are  surrounded  only  by  people  who  take  from  us 
more  than  they  give  ;  and  some  fine  day  we  perish 
like  a  dog,  after  having  ruined  others,  and  ruined 
ourselves  as  well." 

"  Come,  Madame,  pray  calm  yourself,"  said  Nanine ; 
*'  you  are  nervous  this  evening." 

"  This  dress  annoys  me,"  said  Marguerite,  tearing 
open  the  fastenings  ;  "  give  me  a  dressing-gown. 
Well  !   and  Prudence  ?  " 

"  She  had  not  returned,  but  she  will  be  sent  to 
Madame  the  moment  she  comes  in." 

"  And  there  is  another,"  continued  Marguerite, 
taking  of  her  dress  and  putting  on  a  white  dressing- 
gown,  "there  is  another  who  very  well  knows  how  to 
find  me  when  she  wants  my  assistance,  and  who  cannot 
render  me  a  service  with  a  good  grace.  She  knows 
that  I  await  that  answer  this  evening  ;  that  I  must 
have  it  ;  that  I  am  uneasy  ;  and  I  am  certain 
she  has  gone  off  without  troubling  herself  about 
me." 

"  Perhaps  she  may  have  been  detained." 

"  Give  us  some  punch." 

"  You  will  make  yourself  ill,"  said  Nanine. 

"  All  the  better.    Bring  me  some  fruit  also — some 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     109 

patd,  or  the  wing  of  a  chicken — something  directly ! 
I  am  hungry." 

To  tell  the  impression  this  scene  produced  upon 
me  is  useless.    You  divine  it,  do  you  not  ? 

"  You  are  going  to  sup  with  me,"  she  said.  "  While 
waiting,  take  a  book.  I  am  going  into  my  dressing- 
room  for  an  instant." 

She  lighted  the  candles,  opened  a  door  at  the  foot 
of  her  bed,  and  disappeared. 

As  to  myself,  I  began  to  reflect  upon  the  life  of  this 
girl,  and  my  love  was  augmented  by  pity. 

I  walked  rapidly  up  and  down  the  chamber,  dream- 
ing all  the  while,  when  Prudence  entered. 

"  What,  you  here  !  "  she  said,  "  and  where  is 
Marguerite  ?  " 

"  In  her  dressing-room." 

"  I  will  wait  for  her.  Well  I  she  finds  you  charm- 
ing ;  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  She  has  not  told  you  anything  about  it  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  Why  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  come  to  pay  her  a  visit." 

"  At  midnight  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  You  are  jesting  !  " 

"  She  has  even  received  me  very  badly." 

"  She  will  soon  receive  you  better." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  bring  her  good  news." 

"  That  can  do  no  harm. — So  she  spoke  to  you 
concerning  me  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  evening,  or  rather  this  morning, 
when  you  went  away  with  your  friend.     Apropos, 

how  is  your  friend  ?    Gaston  R ,  I  think,  they 

call  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  without  being  able  to  prevent  myself 


no     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

from  smiling,  on  recalling  the  confidence  which 
Gaston  had  conferred  on  me,  and  on  seeing  that 
Prudence  scarcely  knew  his  name. 

"  He  is  a  charming  young  fellow  ;  how  does  he 
employ  himself  ?  " 

"  He  has  an  income  of  twenty-five  thousand 
francs," 

"  Ah  !  truly  !  Well,  to  return  to  yourself.  Mar- 
guerite has  questioned  me  about  you  ;  she  asked  me 
who  you  were.  What  you  did,  who  had  been  your 
mistresses — in  fact,  all  that  one  can  ask  about  a  man 
of  your  age,  I  told  her  all  that  I  knew  ;  adding  that 
you  were  a  charming  fellow  ;  so  much  for  you." 

"  I  thank  you  ;  and  now,  tell  me  with  what 
commission  she  charged  you  yesterday  ?  " 

"  With  none  at  all  ;  what  she  told  me  was  to  get 
rid  of  the  Count  ;  but  she  charged  me  with  one  for 
to-day,  and  it  is  the  answer  to  that  which  I  bring 
her  this  evening." 

At  this  moment  Marguerite  came  out  of  her 
dressing-room,  wearing  a  coquettish  little  nightcap, 
ornamented  with  bows  of  yellow  ribbon.  She  was 
fascinating  thus.  She  had  her  naked  feet  in  a  pair 
of  satin  slippers,  and  was  trimming  her  nails. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  on  seeing  Prudence,  "  have  you 
seen  the  Duke  ?  " 

"  I  believe  you." 

"  And  what  did  he  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  He  has  given  me ." 

"  How  much  ?  " 

"  Six  thousand." 

"  Have  you  them  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  he  appear  to  be  annoyed  ?  ** 

"  No." 

"  Poor  man  !  " 

This  "  poor  man  !  "   was  uttered  in   a  manner 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  C AMELIAS     iii 

impossible  to  render.  Marguerite  took  the  six  notes 
of  a  thousand  francs  each. 

"  It  was  time,"  said  she.  "  My  dear  Prudence,  are 
you  in  want  of  money  ?  " 

"  You  know,  my  child,  that  it  will  be  the  15th  in 
two  days,  and  if  you  could  lend  me  three  or  four 
hundred  francs,  you  would  do  me  a  service." 

"  Send  to-morrow  morning ;  it  is  too  late  to  get 
change." 

"  Do  not  forget." 

"  Be  easy.    Do  you  sup  with  us  ?  " 

"  No  ;  Charles  awaits  me  at  home." 

"  You  are  then  still  mad  for  him  ?  " 

"  Raving,  my  dear  ! — till  to-morrow.  Adieu  ! 
Armand." 

Madame  Duvernoy  went  out.  Marguerite  opened 
her  escritoire  and  threw  in  the  banknotes. 

"  Do  you  permit  me  to  go  into  bed  ?  "  she  said 
smiling,  and  proceeding  towards  her  bed. 

"  I  not  only  permit  it,  but  I  pray  you  to  do  so." 

She  turned  back  the  quilt  and  got  into  bed. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "come  and  sit  yourself  near  me 
and  let  us  converse." 

Prudence  was  right  ;  the  answer  which  she  had 
brought  to  Marguerite  had  made  her  gay. 

"  You  will  pardon  me  my  bad  humour  of  this 
evening  ?  "  she  said  to  me,  taking  my  hand, 

"  I  am  ready  to  pardon  you  much  more." 

"  And  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  To  madness." 

"  Notwithstanding  my  bad  character*  ?  " 

"  Notwithstanding  everything." 

"  You  swear  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  in  a  low  voice. 

Nanine  then  entered,  bringing  plates,  a  cold 
chicken,  a  bottle  of  Bordeaux,  some  strawberries, 
and  two  covers. 


112     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  C AMELIAS 

"  I  have  not  had  any  punch  made,"  said  Nanine  ; 
"  Bordeaux  is  better  for  you.    Is  it  not,  sir  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  answered  I,  still  greatly  moved  by 
Marguerite's  last  words,  and  my  eyes  ardently  fixed 
upon  her, 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  place  all  that  upon  the 
little  table  and  draw  it  to  the  bed-side.  We  will  help 
ourselves.  These  are  three  nights  that  you  have  been 
kept  up  ;  you  must  wish  to  sleep.  I  want  nothing 
more." 

"  Must  I  bolt  the  outer  door  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  so  !  and,  above  all,  say  that  no 
one  is  to  enter  to-morrow  before  midday." 


CHAPTER  XII 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  daylight  began 
to  appear  through  the  curtains,  Marguerite  said  to  me  : 

"  Forgive  me  for  driving  you  away,  but  it  is 
necessary.  The  Duke  comes  every  morning  ;  he 
will  be  told  that  I  am  asleep,  and  he  will,  perhaps, 
wait  until  I  awake." 

I  took  her  head  between  my  hands,  her  dishevelled 
hair  streaming  about  her  like  a  veil,  and  gave  her  a 
last  kiss,  while  I  asked  : 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  " 

"  Listen,"  said  she.  "  Take  the  little  gilded  key 
which  is  on  the  mantel-piece,  open  the  door,  restore 
the  key  to  its  place,  and  be  off  with  you.  During  the 
day  you  will  receive  a  letter  containing  my  commands 
— for  you  know  that  you  are  to  obey  me  blindly." 

"  Yes  ;  and  if  I,  for  my  part,  should  already  ask 
something  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  That  you  should  allow  me  to  keep  this  key." 

"  I  have  never  done  so  for  anyone." 

"  Never  mind,  do  it  for  me  ;  for  I  swear  to  you  that 
no  one  has  ever  loved  you  as  I  do." 

"  Very  well,  take  it  then  ;  but  I  tell  you,  frankly, 
that  it  depends  entirely  upon  me  whether  it  is  to  be 
of  any  use  to  you." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"  There  are  bolts  inside  the  door." 

"  Cruel  1  " 

"  I  will  have  them  removed." 

"3 


IT4     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  You  love  me,  then,  a  little  ?  " 

"  I  don't  quite  understand  it,  but  I  fancy  that — 
I  do.  And  now,  away  with  you,  I  am  dying  of 
sleep." 

We  remained  for  a  moment  in  each  other's  arms, 
and  I  took  my  departure. 

The  streets  were  deserted  ;  the  great  city  still 
slept,  A  sweet  freshness  pervaded  the  air  of  those 
regions  which,  a  few  hours  later,  would  resound  with 
the  "  busy  hum  of  men." 

It  seemed  as  if  this  sleeping  town  belonged  to 
me,  I  sought  in  my  memory  the  names  of  those  I 
had  heretofore  envied  ;  but  I  could  not  recall  one 
without  finding  myself  happier  than  he. 

I  fell  into  a  sleep  in  the  midst  of  these  thoughts,  I 
was  awakened  by  a  letter  being  brought  to  me  from 
Marguerite  ;  a  letter  containing  these  words  : 

"  Here  are  my  orders.  This  evening  at  the  Vaude- 
ville.   Come  after  the  third  act. — M.  G." 

I  locked  this  billet  in  a  drawer,  so  as  always  to  have 
the  reality  under  my  hand,  in  case  I  should  doubt, 
as  happened  to  me  at  times. 

She  did  not  tell  me  to  go  and  see  her  in  the  day- 
time ;  I  did  not  dare  present  myself  at  her  house  ; 
but  I  had  so  great  a  desire  to  meet  her  before  the 
evening  that  I  went  to  the  Champs  Elysees,  where, 
as  on  the  day  before,  I  saw  her  pass  and  descend 
from  the  carriage. 

At  seven  o'clock  I  was  at  the  Vaudeville.  Never 
before  had  I  entered  a  theatre  so  early.  All  the  boxes 
filled  one  after  another.  One  only  remained  empty, 
in  the  lower  tier  near  the  stage.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  the  third  act  I  heard  the  door  of  this  box 
open,  upon  which  I  had  almost  constantly  kept  my 
eyes  fixed.    Marguerite  appeared. 

She  passed  directly  to  the  front,  glanced  at  the 
stalls,  saw  me,  and  thanked  me  with  a  look. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     115 

She  was  marvellously  beautiful  that  evening. 

Was  I  the  cause  of  this  coquetry  ?  Did  she  love 
me  enough  to  believe  that  the  more  beautiful  I  should 
find  her  the  more  happy  I  should  be  ?  I  am  still 
unaware  of  that  ;  but  if  such  had  been  her  intention, 
she  succeeded  ;  for  when  she  showed  herself,  the 
spectators  were  seen  to  whisper  as  they  glanced  at 
her,  and  even  the  actors  on  the  stage  gazed  at  her, 
who  disturbed  the  spectators  by  her  mere  appearance. 

And  I  had  the  key  of  the  apartment  of  this  woman, 
and  in  three  or  four  hours  she  would  again  be  mine. 

It  is  the  custom  to  blame  those  who  ruin  themselves 
for  actresses  and  women  under  protection.  That 
which  astonishes  me  is,  that  they  do  not  commit 
twenty  times  more  follies  for  them.  You  must, 
like  me,  have  lived  that  life  to  know  how  much  the 
daily  flatteries  which  they  heap  upon  their  lover 
firmly  fixes  in  the  heart  the  love  (since  we  have  no 
other  name  for  it)  which  he  feels  for  them. 

Prudence  next  took  her  place  in  the  box,  and  a 

man  whom  I  recognised  for  the  Count  de  G 

seated  himself  at  the  back. 

On  seeing  him  a  coldness  passed  over  my  heart. 

Doubtless  Marguerite  perceived  the  impression 
produced  upon  me  by  the  presence  of  this  man  in  her 
box,  for  she  smiled  on  me  anew,  and  turning  her  back 
on  the  Count,  appeared  very  attentive  to  the  piece. 
At  the  close  of  the  third  act  she  turned  round  and 
spoke  two  words  ;  the  Count  quitted  the  box,  and 
Marguerite  signed  to  me  to  come  and  see  her. 

"  Good  evening,"  she  said,  when  I  entered,  and 
gave  me  her  hand. 

"  Good  evening,"  I  answered,  addressing  myself 
to  Marguerite  and  Prudence. 

"  Take  a  seat." 

"  But  I  am  taking  some  one's  place.  Does  not 
the  Count  de  G return  ?  " 


ii6     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  sent  him  to  get  me  some  bonbons, 
so  that  we  might  converse  alone  for  an  instant. 
Madame  Duvernoy  is  in  my  confidence." 

"  Yes,  my  children,"  said  the  latter  ;  "  but  make 
yourself  easy,  I  shall  not  say  anything." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  though,  this 
evening  ?  "  said  Marguerite,  rising  and  coming  into 
the  shade  of  the  box  to  kiss  me  on  the  forehead. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  well." 

"  You  must  go  to  bed,"  she  answered  ironically. 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  At  your  house." 

"  You  know  very  well  that  I  could  not  sleep 
there." 

"  Then  you  must  not  come  making  wry  faces  at 
us  because  you  have  seen  a  man  in  my  box." 

"  It  is  not  for  that  reason." 

"  But  it  is,  though  !  I  am  sure  of  it,  and  you  are 
wrong  ;  therefore  we  will  not  say  anything  more 
about  it.  You  will  come  after  the  piece  is  over  to 
Prudence's  apartment,  and  you  will  remain  there 
until  I  call  you.    Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Could  I  disobey  ? 

"  You  love  me  still  ?  "  she  resumed. 

"  You  ask  me  such  a  thing  !  " 

"  You  have  thought  of  me  ?  " 

"All  the  day." 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  am  decidedly  afraid  of 
falling  in  love  with  you  ?    Ask  Prudence." 

"  Ah  !  "  answered  the  latter,  "  it  is  astounding  !  " 

"  Now,  then,  you  will  go  back  to  your  stall.  The 
Count  is  about  to  return,  and  it  is  not  necessary  for 
him  to  find  you  here." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  it  is  disagreeable  for  you  to  see  him." 

"  No  ;   if  only  you  had  told  me  that  you  wished 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     117 

to  come  to  the  Vaudeville  this  evening,  I  could  have 
sent  you  this  box  quite  as  well  as  he." 

"  Unhappily,  he  brought  it  me  without  my  asking 
it  of  him,  when  offering  to  accompany  me.  You 
know  very  well  I  could  not  refuse  it.  All  that  I  could 
do  was  to  write  to  you  where  I  was  going,  so  that  you 
should  see  me,  and  because  I  had  myself  some  pleasure 
in  seeing  you  earlier  ;  but  as  it  is  thus  that  you  thank 
me,  I  will  profit  by  the  lesson," 

"  I  am  wrong  ;   pardon  me." 

"  That's  better.  Now  return  quietly  to  your  place, 
and,  above  all,  don't  h^.  jealous  any  more." 

She  kissed  me  again  and  I  quitted  the  box. 

In  the  lobby  I  encountered  the  Count,  who  was 
on  his  way  back. 

I  returned  to  my  stall. 

After  all,  the  presence  of  M.  de  G in  Mar- 
guerite's box  was  a  most  simple  thing.  He  had  been 
her  lover  ;  he  brought  her  a  box  ;  he  accompanied 
her  to  the  theatre  ;  all  this  was  very  natural ;  and 
from  the  moment  when  I  had  a  girl  like  Marguerite 
for  a  mistress  I  must  necessarily  accept  her  habits. 

I  was,  hov/ever,  none  the  less  very  unhappy  for  the 
remainder  of  the  evening  ;  and  I  was  very  sad  on 
going  away  after  having  seen  the  Count,  Prudence, 
and  Marguerite  get  into  the  caleche  which  awaited 
them  at  the  door. 

And,  nevertheless,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards 
I  was  in  the  apartment  of  Prudence.  She  had  just 
returned. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"''  You  have  come  almost  as  rapidly  as  we  did,"  said 
Prudence  to  me. 

"  Yes,"  replied  I,  mechanically.  "  Where  is 
Marguerite  ?  " 

"  At  home." 

"  Alone  ?  " 

"  No  ;  with  Monsieur  de  G ." 

I  paced  up  and  down  the  apartment. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  The  matter  !  Do  you  think  I  find  it  amusing 
to  wait  here  until  Monsieur  de  G leaves  Mar- 
guerite ?  " 

"  You  are  no  longer  reasonable,"  retorted  Prudence. 
"  Pray  understand  that  Marguerite  cannot  turn 
the  Count  out  of  doors  ;  he  has  long  been  her  friend, 
has  given  her  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  still  does  so. 
Marguerite  spends  niore  than  100,000  francs  (£4,000) 
a  year,  and  owes  many  debts.  The  Duke  sends  her 
what  she  asks,  but  she  dare  not  be  always  asking 
him  for  what  she  wants.  She  cannot  quarrel  with  the 
Count,  who  supplies  her  with  several  thousand  francs 
a  month.  Marguerite  is  very  fond  of  you,  my  friend, 
but  your  liaison  with  her,  for  her  interest  as  well 
as  for  yours,  ought  not  to  be  serious.  It  is  not  with 
your  seven  or  eight  thousand  francs  of  income  that 
you  can  support  the  extravagance  of  that  girl ; 
these  would  not  keep  her  carriage !  Take  Mar- 
guerite for  what  she  is  ;  for  a  good,  intelligent,  and 
pretty  girl.    Be  her  lover  for  a  month  or  two  months  ; 

118 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  C AMELIAS     119 

give  her  bouquets,  bonbons,  and  boxes  at  the  theatre  ; 
but  put  nothing  further  into  your  head,  and  do  not 
make  any  ridiculous  '  scenes  '  of  jealousy  with  her. 
You  well  know  with  whom  you  have  to  do.  Mar- 
guerite is  not  a  vestal.  You  please  her  ;  you  are 
very  fond  of  her  ;  do  not  disturb  yourself  about  any- 
thing beyond.  I  like  the  idea  of  you  playing  the 
susceptible  !  You  have  the  most  fascinating  mistress 
in  Paris ;  she  receives  you  in  a  magnificent  apartment ; 
she  is  covered  with  diamonds  ;  she  does  not  cost  you  a 
sou,  and  you  are  not  satisfied  !  What  the  deuce  ! — 
you  ask  too  much  !  " 

"  You  are  right,  no  doubt ;  but  it  is  too  much  for 
me  ;  the  idea  that  this  man  is  her  lover,  makes  me 
suffer  inexpressibly." 

"  But  to  begin  with,"  retorted  Prudence,  "  is  he 
still  her  lover  ?  He  is  a  man  of  whom  she  has  need — 
that  is  all.  For  these  two  days  she  has  closed  her 
doors  against  him  ;  but  she  could  not  do  otherwise 
than  accept  his  box,  and  allow  him  to  accompany  her. 
He  returns  with  her  ;  he  goes  up  to  her  apartments 
for  a  moment  ;  he  is  not  allowed  to  remain  because 
you  are  here.  All  this  is  very  natural,  it  seems  to 
me.    Besides,  you  make  no  objection  to  the  Duke." 

"  That  is  true  ;  but  he  is  an  old  man,  and  I  am 
sure  that  Marguerite  is  not  his  mistress.  Besides, 
one  might  very  possibly  tolerate  one  liaison,  and 
not  have  a  fancy  to  overlook  two.  Such  facility, 
too,  much  resembles  a  matter  of  calculation,  and 
places  the  man  who  practises  it,  even  from  love, 
in  a  position  too  similar  to  that  of  those  who,  in  a 
grade  one  degree  lower,  make  a  business  of  this 
practice,  and  a  profit  of  such  business." 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  fellow,  you  are  antique  I  How 
many  have  I  seen,  and  those  of  the  noblest,  the  richest, 
and  the  most  elegant,  do  that  which  I  advise  you 
to   do    without    hesitation,    or    remorse,    or    any 


120     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

feeling  of  shame  1  Why,  it  happens  every  day.  How 
do  you  imagine  that  the  Parisian  ladies  who  are  under 
'  protection  '  could  maintain  the  style  which  they 
display,  if  they  had  not  three  or  four  lovers  at  a 
time  ?  There  is  no  fortune,  however  large,  which 
could  by  itself  support  the  expenses  of  a  girl  like 
Marguerite.  A  fortune  of  500,000  francs  of  income 
(£20,000)  is  an  enormous  fortune  in  France  ;  but 
still  it  would  not  suffice  for  this,  and  I  will  tell  you 
why. 

"  A  man  who  has  such  an  income  has  an  establish- 
ment and  a  household  ;  friends  to  entertain,  horses, 
servants,  carriages,  and  hounds  ;  he  is  very  likely 
married  ;  he  has  children  ;  he  plays,  he  travels  ; 
he  does  I  know  not  what.  All  these  habits  are  so 
established  that  he  cannot  dispose  of  any  one  of 
them,  without  raising  a  suspicion  of  being  embar- 
rassed, and  creating  a  scandal.  When  the  account 
comes  to  be  made  up,  he  cannot  with  his  500,000 
francs  per  annum  give  more  than  forty  or  fifty 
thousand  francs  during  the  year,  and  even  that 
is  a  great  deal.  Very  well,  then  !  Other  amours 
furnish  the  balance  of  the  expenditure  of  the 
lady. 

"  With  Marguerite,  however,  it  is  better  than  this. 
She  has,  by  a  miracle,  encountered  an  old  man, 
immensely  rich,  whose  wife  and  daughter  are  both 
dead ;  who  has  now  only  nephews,  themselves  rich  ; 
and  he  gives  her  all  that  she  asks,  and  demands 
nothing  in  exchange, 

"But  she  cannot  ask  him  for  more  than  sixty  or 
seventy  thousand  francs  per  year  ;  and  I  am  sure  if 
she  were  to  ask  more  that,  despite  his  fortune,  and  his 
affection  for  her,  he  would  refuse  it. 

"  All  young  men,  having  incomes  of  20,000  or 
30,000  francs,  that  is  to  say,  barely  enough  to  live 
upon  in  the  society  which  they  frequent,  know  very 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     121 

well  when  they  are  the  lovers  of  a  girl  like  Marguerite, 
that  she  cannot  even  pay  the  rent  of  her  apartments 
with  what  they  give  her.  They  do  not  tell  her  that 
they  know  this  ;  they  appear  to  see  nothing  of  the 
kind  ;  and  when  they  have  had  enough  of  the  affair, 
they  go  about  their  business.  If  they  have  the  vanity 
of  trying  to  assume  the  whole  responsibility,  they 
ruin  themselves  like  fools,  and  then  go  and  get 
themselves  killed  in  Africa,  leaving  100,000  francs 
of  debts  in  Paris,  Do  you  suppose  that  the  lady  is 
obliged  to  them  for  so  doing  ?  Not  the  least  in  the 
world.  On  the  contrary,  she  says  that  she  has 
sacrificed  her  position  to  them,  and  that  while  she 
was  with  them  she  lost  money  !  No  doubt  you  find 
all  these  details  very  humiliating — but  they  are  true. 
You  are  a  charming  young  fellow,  whom  I  like  very 
much.  I  have  lived  twenty  years  among  girls  of  this 
sort  ;  I  know  what  they  are  worth,  and  I  do  not  wish 
you  to  take  seriously  to  heart  the  caprice  which  a 
pretty  girl  has  for  you. 

"  Besides,  beyond  all  this,"  continued  Prudence, 
"  let  us  admit  that  Marguerite  loves  you  sufficiently 
to  renounce  the  Count  and  the  Duke,  in  case  they 
should  remark  your  liaison,  and  tell  her  to  choose 
between  you  and  themselves.  The  sacrifice  would 
be  enormous.  What  sacrifice  can  you  make  for  her 
of  equal  importance  ?  When  the  condition  of 
satiety  shall  have  arrived — when,  in  fact,  you  want 
no  more  of  her — what  will  you  do  to  compensate 
her  for  what  you  have  caused  her  to  lose  ?  Nothing  ! 
You  will  have  isolated  her  from  the  world  in  which 
her  future  and  her  fortune  lay  ;  she  will  have  given 
you  her  best  and  loveliest  years,  and  she  will  be 
forgotten.  Then  you  will  either  be  a  man  of  the 
ordinary  stamp,  and,  casting  her  life  in  her  teeth,  you 
will  say,  that  on  leaving  her,  you  do  only  like  her 
other  lovers,  and  you  will  leave  her  to  certain  misery  ; 


122     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

or  you  will  be  a  kind-hearted  and  honourable  man, 
and  believing  yourself  forced  to  keep  her  near  you, 
you  will  surrender  yourself  to  an  inevitable  mis- 
fortune ;  for  this  connection,  excusable  in  the 
young  man,  ceases  to  be  so  with  the  man  of  mature 
age.  She  becomes  an  obstacle  to  everything  ;  she 
precludes  you  from  forming  family  ties,  and  from 
pursuing  the  schemes  of  ambition,  that  second  and 
last  love  of  man.  Believe  me,  then,  my  friend  ; 
take  things  at  their  real  value,  and  vv^omen  for  what 
they  are  ;  and  do  not  give  to  a  girl  of  Marguerite's 
class  the  right  to  consider  herself  your  creditor,  in  any 
respect  whatever." 

This  was  wisely  argued,  and  with  a  logic  of  which 
I  would  have  thought  Prudence  quite  incapable.  I 
could  find  nothing  to  reply,  except  that  she  was  right. 
I  gave  her  my  hand,  and  thanked  her  for  her  good 
advice. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  she,  "  drive  away  these 
gloomy  theories  and  laugh.  Life  is  delightful,  my 
friend,  though  varied  by  the  glass  through  which  you 
look  upon  it.  Ask  your  friend  Gaston.  There  is  a 
person  who  seems  to  me  to  understand  love  as  I 
understand  it.  That  of  which  you  must  be  con- 
vinced, unless  you  are  to  become  a  very  dull  fellow, 
is,  that  there  is  near  here  a  beautiful  girl,  who  awaits 
most  impatiently  for  the  departure  of  the  person 
who  is  now  with  her,  who  thinks  of  you,  who  retains 
her  night  for  you,  and  who  certainly  loves  you.  Now, 
come  and  stand  by  the  window  with  me,  and  let 
us  see  the  departure  of  the  Count,  who  will  not  be 
long  before  making  room  for  us." 

Prudence  opened  her  window,  and  we  stood  beside 
each  other  on  the  balcony. 

She  looked  at  the  few  passers-by  ;    I  dreamed. 

All  that  she  had  said  to  me  was  buzzing  in  my 
head,  and  I  could  not  but  admit  that  she  was  right  ; 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     123 

but  the  real  love  which  I  felt  for  Marguerite  could 
not  easily  reconcile  itself  to  such  reasoning.  I 
occasionally  sighed,  therefore,  in  a  manner  which 
caused  Prudence  to  turn  and  gaze  at  me,  shrugging 
her  shoulders  like  a  physician  who  despairs  of  a 
patient. 

"  How  strongly,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  one  feels  from 
the  rapidity  of  sensations,  that  life  ought  to  be  short. 
I  have  known  Marguerite  but  two  days,  she  is  my 
mistress  only  since  yesterday,  and  yet  she  has  already 
taken  such  a  place  in  my  thoughts,  my  heart,  and 

my  life,  that  the  visit  of  the  Count  de  G seems 

to  me  a  personal  misfortune." 

At  length  the  Count  came  out,  entered  his  carriage, 
and  disappeared. 

At  the  same  moment  Marguerite  called  us. 

"  Come  at  once.  They  are  setting  the  table  ;  we 
are  going  to  sup." 

When  I  entered  her  apartment,  Marguerite  ran 
to  meet  me,  threw  her  arms  around  my  neck,  and 
embraced  me  warmly. 

"  Are  we  still  sulky  ?  "  said  she. 

"  No,  it  is  over,"  said  Prudence.  "  I  have  read 
him  a  lecture,  and  he  has  promised  to  behave  better." 

"  That  is  fortunate." 

We  sat  down  to  table.  Fascination,  sweetness, 
veracity — Marguerite  possessed  them  all ;  and  I  was 
forced,  from  time  to  time,  to  remember  that  I  had 
no  right  to  demand  anything  else,  and  that  many 
persons  would  be  delighted  to  be  in  my  place  ;  and 
that,  like  the  shepherd  of  Virgil,  I  had  only  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  which  a  deity,  or  rather  a  goddess, 
offered  to  me. 

I  endeavoured,  therefore,  to  put  in  practice  the 
theories  of  Prudence,  and  to  be  as  gay  as  my  two 
companions ;  but  that  which,  with  them,  was 
natural,  was  on  my  part  an  effort,  and  the  nervous 


124     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  C AMELIAS 

laugh  which  I  uttered,  and  by  which  they  were 
deceived,  was  not  far  removed  from  tears. 

The  supper  ended  at  length,  and  I  remained  alone 
with  Marguerite.  She  seated  herself  (according  to  her 
habit)  upon  the  hearth-rug,  and  gazed  sadly  and 
abstractedly  into  the  fire. 

She  was  thinking — of  what  ?  I  do  not  know.  I 
gazed  upon  her  with  love,  and  almost  with  terror, 
while  reflecting  upon  what  I  was  near  suffering  for  her. 

"  Come  and  sit  beside  me,"  said  she,  suddenly. 

I  reclined  at  her  side. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  was  thinldng  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Of  a  plan  that  I  have  formed." 

"  And  what  is  that  plan  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  yet  confide  it  to  you,  but  I  can  tell 
you  what  will  be  its  result.  It  will  be  that  in  a  month 
from  this  time  I  shall  be  free  ;  I  shall  no  longer  owe 
anything  ;  and  we  will  go  together  to  spend  the 
summer  in  the  country." 

"  And  you  cannot  tell  me  by  what  means  ?  " 

"No.  It  is  only  necessary  that  you  should  love 
me  as  I  love  you,  and  all  will  go  well." 

"  Have  you  formed  this  plan  by  yourself  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  will  carry  it  into  execution  alone  ?  " 

"  I  alone  will  have  all  the  trouble,"  said  Marguerite, 
with  a  smile  ;   "  but  we  will  share  the  profits." 

I  blushed  involuntarily  at  the  word  "  profits  "  ; 
for  it  reminded  me  of  Manon  Lescaut  squandering 
the  money  of  Monsieur  de  B— • —  in  company  with 
Desgrieux. 

I  answered  with  a  little  sternness,  and  rising  at 
the  same  time : 

"  You  will  permit  me,  my  dear  Marguerite,  not  to 
share  the  profits  of  any  enterprises  but  those  that  I 
myself  conceive  and  execute." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     125 

What  docs  that  mean  ?  " 

It  means  that  I  strongly  suspect  the  Count  de 
of  being  your  partner  in  this  fortunate  plan, 


of  which  I  accept  neither  the  responsibility  nor  the 
profits." 

"  You  are  a  child  !  I  fancied  that  you  loved  me  ; 
I  was  deceived.    Very  well." 

And  she  in  turn  rose,  opened  her  piano,  and  began 
to  play  "  The  Invitation  to  the  Waltz,"  up  to  that 
famous  passage  in  the  major  mode,  which  always 
stopped  her. 

Was  this  from  mere  habit,  or  to  remind  me  of  the 
day  when  we  first  became  acquainted  ?  I  know,  only, 
that  with  this  melody  remembrance  came  back  ;  and 
that  approaching  her,  I  took  her  head  between  my 
two  hands  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  You  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  You  see  that  I  do  so,"  said  she  ;  "  but  pray 
observe  that  this  is  only  our  second  day,  and  that  I 
have  already  something  to  forgive.  You  pay  little 
regard  to  your  promises  of  blind  obedience." 

"  What  would  you  have.  Marguerite  ?  I  love  you 
too  much,  and  I  am  jealous  of  your  slightest  thought. 
That  which  you  proposed  to  me  just  now  made  me 
wild  with  joy  ;  but  the  mystery  which  precedes 
the  fulfilment  of  your  project  distresses  me." 

"  Let  us  reason  a  little,"  said  she,  taking  both  my 
hands,  and  looking  at  me  with  that  charming  smile 
which  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  resist  ;  "  you  love 
me,  do  you  not  ?  and  you  would  be  happy  to  pass 
two  or  three  months  with  me  alone  in  the  country  ? 
I,  also,  should  be  happy  in  this  double  solitude  ; 
indeed,  I  should  not  only  enjoy  it,  but  I  need  it  for 
the  sake  of  my  health.  I  cannot  leave  Paris  for  so 
long  a  time  without  putting  my  affairs  in  order,  and 
the  affairs  of  a  person  like  me  are  sadly  entangled. 
But   I   have  discovered  the  means  of  reconciling 


126     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

everything — both  my  affairs  and  my  love  for  you  ! 
Yes,  for  you  ! — you  need  not  laugh  ;  I  am  insane 
enough  to  love  you  !  And  yet  you  assume  grand 
airs,  and  use  big  words  to  me.  Child  !  triple  child 
that  you  are  :  remember  only  that  I  love  you,  and 
do  not  disquiet  yourself  about  anything.  Is  it 
agreed  ?    Come  now  ?  " 

"  All  that  you  wish  is  agreed,  of  course.  You  know 
it  well." 

"  Very  well,  then  ;  and  within  a  month  we  will 
be  in  some  village,  walking  on  the  brink  of  a  rivulet, 
and  drinking  milk.  It  seems  strange,  no  doubt,  that 
I  should  speak  thus — I,  Marguerite  Gautier  ;  but 
it  is  because  this  Parisian  life,  which  seems  to  make 
me  so  happy,  when  it  does  not  burn  me,  fatigues 
me,  and  then  I  have  sudden  aspirations  towards  a 
calmer  existence,  v/hich  may  recall  my  childhood. 
Everyone  has  known  this  time  of  childhood,  what- 
ever the  subsequent  life  may  have  been.  But  do 
not  be  alarmed  ;  I  am  not  about  to  tell  you  that  I 
am  the  daughter  of  a  retired  colonel,  and  that  I  was 
educated  at  Saint  Denis.  I  am  a  poor  girl,  a  country 
girl ;  and  six  years  ago  I  could  not  write  my  own 
name.  You  are  reassured  now,  are  you  not  ?  Why 
do  I  first  address  myself  to  you,  to  share  the  joy  of  the 
desire  that  has  dawned  upon  me  ?  Doubtless, 
because  I  have  recognised  that  you  love  me  for 
myself,  and  not  selfishly  ;  while  others  have  never 
loved  me,  except  for  their  own  pleasure. 

"  I  have  often  been  to  the  country,  but  never  as  1 
should  like  to  go.  I  count  upon  you  for  a  happiness 
so  easily  attained  ;  do  not  be  ill-natured,  but  grant 
it  to  me.  Say  this  to  yourself :  '  She  will  not  live 
to  be  old,  and  I  shall,  one  day,  not  regret  having 
granted  the  first  request  that  she  ever  made,  and 
one,  too,  that  was  so  easily  granted.'  " 

What  could  I  reply  to  language  such  as  this  ;  es- 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     127 

pecially  with  the  souvenir  of  a  first  night  of  love,  and 
in  the  expectation  of  a  second  ? 

An  hour  later  Marguerite  was  in  my  arms,  and  had 
she  asked  me  to  commit  a  crime,  I  should  have 
obeyed.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  left  her  ;  and 
before  going,  I  said  : 

"  Till  this  evening  ?  " 

She  embraced  me  tenderly,  but  made  no  answer. 

During  the  day  I  received  a  letter,  which  contained 
these  words : 

"  Dear  Friend, — I  am  not  well,  and  the  doctor 
orders  me  repose.  I  shall  retire  early  to-night,  and 
shall  not  see  you  ;  but  to  recompense  you,  I  shall 
await  you  to-morrow,  at  midday.    I  love  you." 

My  first  word  was,  "  She  is  deceiving  me." 

A  cold  sweat  broke  from  my  forehead  ;  for  I 
already  loved  this  woman  too  deeply  not  to  be 
distressed  by  such  a  suspicion. 

And,  nevertheless,  I  was  bound  to  calculate  upon 
such  an  occurrence  almost  daily  with  Marguerite,  and 
the  same  thing  had  already  often  happened  to  me 
with  others,  without  my  giving  it  much  thought. 
Whence,  then,  the  empire  she  had  acquired  over  me  ? 

It  then  occurred  to  me,  as  I  had  the  key  of  her 
chamber,  to  go  to  her  as  usual.  In  that  way  I  should 
speedily  know  the  truth,  and  if  I  should  find  a  man 
there  I  would  insult  him. 

Meantime,  I  went  to  the  Champs  Elysees.  I 
remained  there  four  hours.  She  did  not  make  her 
appearance.  In  the  evening  I  visited  all  the  theatres 
which  she  was  accustomed  to  attend  ;  but  she  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen.  At  eleven  o'clock  I  went  to  the 
Rue  d'Antin.  There  was  no  light  in  Marguerite's 
window,  but  I  rang,  nevertheless.  The  porter  asked 
me  where  I  was  going. 

"  To  Mademoiselle  Gautier's  apartments." 


128     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  She  has  not  yet  come  in." 

"  I  will  go  up  and  wait  for  her," 

"  There  is  no  one  there." 

There  was  evidently  a  prohibition,  which  I  could 
certainly  break  through,  as  I  had  the  key  ;  but  I 
feared  to  make  a  ridiculous  scandal,  and  I  went 
away. 

But  I  did  not  return  home.  I  could  not  leave  the 
street,  and  I  did  not  lose  sight  of  the  house.  I  fancied 
that  I  had  still  something  to  learn  ;  or,  at  least,  that 
my  suspicions  were  about  to  be  confirmed.  Near 
midnight  a  brougham,  which  I  knew  but  too  well, 

stopped  at  No.  9.  The  Count  de  G descended  from 

it  and  entered  the  house,  after  having  dismissed  his 
carriage. 

For  a  moment  I  hoped  that,  like  myself,  he  would 
be  told  that  Marguerite  was  not  at  home,  and  that  I 
should  see  him  come  out  again  ;  but  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning  I  was  still  waiting. 

I  have  suffered  greatly  for  the  last  three  weeks, 
but  nothing  in  comparison  with  what  I  suffered  that 
night. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

When  I  reached  home  I  began  to  weep  like  a  child. 
There  is  no  man  who  has  not  been  deceived  at  least 
once,  and  who  does  not  know  what  one  suffers  on 
these  occasions. 

I  said  to  myself,  under  the  weight  of  those  feverish 
resolutions  which  we  always  believe  we  have  the 
strength  to  keep,  that  I  must  immediately  break 
off  this  affection,  and  I  impatiently  awaited  the 
return  of  day  to  go  and  engage  my  place,  in  order 
to  return  to  my  father  and  sister,  a  double  affection 
of  which  I  was  certain,  and  one  which  would  not 
deceive  me. 

Nevertheless,  I  did  not  wish  to  depart  without 
Marguerite  well  knowing  why  I  left.  Only  a  man  who 
has  really  ceased  to  love  his  mistress  leaves  her 
without  writing. 

I  planned  and  replanned  twenty  letters  in  my  head. 

I  had  had  to  do  with  a  girl  like  all  of  her  class, 
I  had  idealised  her  a  great  deal  too  much,  she  had 
treated  me  as  a  schoolboy,  employing,  in  order  to 
deceive  me,  a  ruse  of  an  insulting  simplicity — that 
was  clear.  My  self-love  then  took  the  upper  hand. 
It  was  necessary  to  quit  this  woman  without  giving 
her  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  what  this  rupture 
caused  me  to  suffer  ;  and  here  is  what  I  wrote  to  her 
in  my  most  elegant  hand,  and  with  tears  of  rage 
and  grief  in  my  eyes  : 

"  My  dear  Marguerite, — I  hope  that  your  in- 
disposition of  yesterday  will  not  have  been  much. 
129 


130     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  went  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening  to  ask  news 
of  you,  and  they  told  me  that  you  had  not  returned. 

M.  de  G was  more  fortunate  than  I,  for  he 

presented  himself  a  few  minutes  after,  and  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  he  was  still  at  your  house. 

"  Pardon  me  the  few  tedious  hours  that  I  have 
caused  you  to  pass,  and  feel  assured  that  I  shall  never 
forget  the  happy  moments  which  I  owe  to  you. 

"  I  should  have  called  to-day,  to  ask  after  you,  but  I 
am  about  to  return  to  my  father. 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  Marguerite.  I  am  neither  rich 
enough  to  love  you  as  I  should  wish,  or  poor  enough  to 
love  you  as  you  would  desire.  Let  us  then  forget : 
you,  a  name  which  must  be  nearly  indifferent  to  you  ; 
and  I,  a  happiness  which  is  no  longer  possible  to  me. 

"  I  return  you  your  key,  of  which  I  have  never 
made  use,  and  which  may  be  useful  to  you,  if  you 
are  often  ill  as  you  were  yesterday." 

As  you  may  see,  I  had  not  the  strength  to  finish 
this  letter  without  an  impertinent  irony,  which 
proved  how  much  I  was  still  in  love. 

I  read  and  re-read  this  letter  ten  times,  and  the 
thought  that  it  would  cause  some  pain  to  Marguerite 
calmed  me  a  little.  I  endeavoured  to  harden  mj^self 
to  the  sentiments  which  it  affected,  and  when  at 
eight  o'clock  my  servant  came  into  the  room,  I  gave 
it  him  to  deliver  directly. 

"  Will  there  bf^"  an  answer  ?  "  asked  Joseph  (my 
servant  was  called  Joseph  like  all  other  servants). 

"  If  they  ask  you  if  there  is  an  answer,  you  will 
say  that  you  know  nothing  about  it,  and  you  will 
wait." 

I  grasped  at  the  hope  that  she  would  answer  me. 

Poor  and  feeble  that  we  are  ! 

The  whole  time  that  my  servant  remained  out,  I 
was   extremely   agitated.     Now,    recollecting   how 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     131 

Marguerite  had  given  herself  up  to  me,  I  asked  myself 
by  what  right  I  wrote  her  an  impertinent  letter, 

when  she  could  answer  me  that  it  was  not  M.  de  G 

who  deceived  me,  but  I  who  deceived  M.  de  G , 

a  reason  which  allows  many  women  to  have  several 
lovers.  Now,  recalling  the  vows  of  this  girl,  I  wished 
to  convince  myself  that  my  letter  was  still  too  sweet, 
and  that  there  were  not  any  expressions  strong  enough 
to  stigmatise  a  woman  who  laughed  at  an  affection 
so  sincere  as  mine.  Then,  I  said  to  myself  that  I 
should  have  done  better  to  write  to  her,  but  should 
have  gone  to  her  in  the  daytime,  and  by  this  means, 
I  should  have  enjoyed  the  tears  which  I  would  have 
caused  her  to  shed. 

At  last  I  asked  myself  in  what  way  would  she 
answer  me  ?  I  was  already  prepared  to  believe  in  the 
excuse  that  she  would  make  to  me. 

Joseph  returned. 

"  Well  ?  "  I  said  to  him. 

"  Sir,"  he  replied,  "  Madame  was  in  bed  and  still 
slept,  but  the  moment  she  rings  they  will  deliver 
the  letter,  and  if  there  is  an  answer  they  will  bring  it." 

She  slept  !  Twenty  times  I  was  on  the  point  of 
sending  back  to  obtain  the  letter,  but  I  always  said 
to  myself : 

"  They  have  perhaps  already  given  it  to  her,  and  I 
should  have  the  air  of  repenting." 

The  nearer  the  hour  approached  at  which  it  was 
likely  that  she  would  answer  me,  the  more  I  regretted 
having  written. 

Ten,  eleven,  twelve  o'clock  struck.  At  twelve  I 
thought  of  going  to  the  rendezvous  as  if  nothing  had 
passed.  At  length  I  did  not  know  what  to  imagine 
in  order  to  retreat  from  the  circle  of  iron  which 
surrounded  me. 

At  one  o'clock  I  still  waited. 

Then  I  thought,  with  that  superstition  of  people 


132     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

who  await  anything,  that  if  I  went  out  on  my  return 
I  should  find  an  answer.  Answers  impatiently 
awaited  always  come  when  one  is  not  at  home. 

I  went  out  then  under  the  pretext  of  going  to 
breakfast. 

Instead  of  breakfasting  at  the  Cafe  Foy,  at  the 
corner  of  the  Boulevard,  as  I  was  accustomed  to  do, 
I  preferred  to  go  and  breakfast  in  the  Palais  Royal, 
and  to  pass  by  the  Rue  d'Antin.  Each  time  that  I 
perceived  a  woman  in  the  distance,  I  thought  I  saw 
Nanine  bringing  me  an  answer.  I  passed  along  the 
Rue  d'Antin  without  having  even  met  a  commission- 
aire. I  reached  the  Palais  Royal — I  entered  Vary's, 
The  waiter  made  me  eat,  or  rather  served  me  with 
what  he  wished,  for  I  did  not  eat. 

Notwithstanding  myself,  my  eyes  were  always 
fixed  upon  the  clock. 

I  returned  home,  convinced  that  I  was  about  to 
find  a  letter  from  Marguerite. 

The  porter  had  received  nothing.  I  still  had  hope 
in  my  servant.  The  latter  had  seen  no  one  since  I 
went  out. 

If  Marguerite  had  intended  to  answer  me,  she 
would  have  done  so  some  time  ago. 

Then  I  began  to  regret  the  terms  of  my  letter.  I 
should  have  remained  completely  silent,  which  would 
doubtless  have  had  the  effect  of  causing  her  some 
disquiet.  Finding  that  I  did  not  come  to  the  rendez- 
vous given  the  day  before,  she  would  have  asked  me 
the  reasons  of  my  absence,  and  then  only  should  I 
have  given  them  to  her.  In  this  manner  she  could 
not  have  done  otherwise  than  exculpate  herself  ;  and 
what  I  wanted  was  that  she  should  exculpate  herself. 
I  already  felt,  that  whatever  reasons  she  might  have 
given  me,  I  should  have  believed  them,  and  that  I 
had  better  have  believed  all  than  to  see  her  no 
more. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     133 

I  persuaded  myself  that  she  would  come  to  my 
liouse,  but  hours  passed  and  she  came  not. 

Decidedly  Marguerite  was  not  like  all  women  ; 
for  there  are  very  few  of  them  who,  on  receiving  such 
a  letter  as  that  which  I  had  just  written,  would  not 
have  made  some  reply. 

At  five  o'clock  I  went  to  the  Champs  Elysees. 

If  I  meet  her,  I  thought,  I  will  affect  an  in- 
different air,  and  she  will  be  convinced  that  I 
already  no  longer  think  of  her. 

At  the  turning  of  the  Rue  Royale,  I  saw  her  pass 
in  her  carriage  ;  the  meeting  was  so  sudden  that  I 
turned  pale,  I  am  unaware  whether  she  saw  my 
emotion  ;  as  for  myself,  I  was  so  troubled  that  I  saw 
but  her  carriage. 

I  did  not  continue  my  promenade  to  the  Champs 
Elysees.  I  examined  the  playbills,  for  I  had  still 
a  chance  of  seeing  her. 

There  was  a  first  performance  at  the  Palais  Royale. 
Marguerite  would  certainly  be  present. 

I  was  at  the  theatre  at  seven  o'clock. 

All  the  boxes  filled ;  but  Marguerite  did  not 
appear. 

Then  I  quitted  the  Palais  Royale,  and  went  into 
all  the  theatres  which  she  oftenest  visited — ^the 
Vaudeville,  the  Varietes,  the  Opera  Comique. 

She  was  nowhere  to  be  seen  ! 

Either  my  letter  had  caused  her  too  much  pain  for 
her  to  trouble  herself  about  the  theatre,  or  she  feared 
to  find  herself  with  me,  and  wished  to  avoid  an 
explanation. 

That  is  what  my  vanity  whispered  to  me,  v/hen  I 
met  Gaston,  who  asked  me  from  where  I  came. 

"  From  the  Palais  Royale." 

"  And  I  from  the  Opera,"  he  said ;  "  I  even 
thought  of  seeing  you  there." 

"  Why  ?  " 


134     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Because  Marguerite  was  there." 

"  Oh  !  was  she  there  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Alone  ?  " 

"  No  ;  with  one  of  her  female  friends." 

"  Was  that  all  ?  " 

"  The  Count  de  G came  for  an  instant  into  her 

box  ;  but  she  went  away  with  the  Duke.  At  each 
moment  I  expected  you  to  appear.  There  was  a  stall 
at  my  side  which  remained  empty  the  whole  evening, 
and  I  was  convinced  that  you  had  taken  it." 

"  But  why  should  I  go  where  Marguerite  goes  ?  " 

"  Because  you  are  her  lover,  to  be  sure  !  " 

"  And  who  told  you  that  ?  " 

"  Prudence,  whom  I  met  yesterday.  I  congratu- 
late you  upon  it,  my  dear  fellow  ;  she  is  a  pretty 
mistress,  who  is  not  at  everybody's  disposal.  Keep 
her  ;  she  will  do  you  honour." 

This  simple  reflection  of  Gaston  showed  me  how 
ridiculous  were  my  susceptibilities. 

If  I  had  met  him  the  day  before,  and  he  had  spoken 
to  me  thus,  I  certainly  should  not  have  written  the 
silly  letter  of  the  morning. 

I  was  just  about  to  call  upon  Prudence,  and  to 
send  her  to  say  to  Marguerite  that  I  wished  to  speak 
to  her  ;  but  I  feared  that,  to  avenge  herself,  she 
would  answer  me  that  she  could  not  receive  me  ; 
and  I  returned  home,  after  having  passed  through  the 
Rue  d'Antin. 

I  again  asked  my  porter  if  he  had  a  letter  for  me. 

"  Nothing." 

She  has  wished  to  see  whether  I  should  take  any 
fresh  steps,  and  if  I  should  retract  my  letter  to-day, 
I  said  to  myself,  on  going  to  bed  :  but  seeing  that 
I  do  not  write  to  her,  she  will  write  to  me  to-morrow. 

That  evening,  above  all,  I  repented  of  what  I  had 
done.     I  was  alone  in  my  room,  not  being  able  to 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     135 

sleep,  devoured  with  inquietude  and  jealousy,  when, 
on  lettings  things  follow  their  trae  course,  I  should 
have  been  with  Marguerite,  hearing  the  charming 
words  I  had  heard  but  twice,  and  which  burned  in  my 
ears  in  my  solitude. 

That  which  was  frightful  in  my  situation  was  that, 
on  reasoning,  I  found  myself  in  the  wrong  ;  in  fact, 
everything  said  to  me  that  Marguerite  loved  me. 
To  begin  with  :  this  plan  of  passing  the  summer  alone 
in  the  country  ;  then  the  certainty  that  nothing 
forced  her  to  be  my  mistress,  since  my  fortune  was 
insufficient  to  her  wants,  and  even  to  her  caprices. 
There  had  been  then  with  her  nothing  but  the  hope 
of  finding  in  me  a  sincere  affection,  in  which  she  could 
seek  repose  from  the  mercenary  love  in  the  midst  ol 
which  she  lived  ;  and  from  the  second  day  I  destroyed 
this  hope,  and  I  recompensed,  by  bitter  irony,  the 
love  which  for  two  nights  I  had  accepted.  That  which 
I  was  doing  was  therefore  more  than  ridiculous — it 
was  indelicate.  Had  I  even  paid  her,  that  I  claimed 
the  right  to  censure  her  mode  of  life  ?  What  !  I 
had  known  Marguerite  but  thirty-six  hours  ;  I  had 
been  her  lover  but  four-and-twenty  ;  and  yet  I  was 
too  susceptible,  and  instead  of  finding  myself  all  too 
happy  that  she  shared  her  time  with  me,  I  wished  to 
have  her  to  myself  or  to  force  her  to  destroy  with 
a  single  blow  those  existing  relations  which  were 
the  source  of  her  income.  Of  what  had  I  to  reproach 
her  ?  Nothing.  She  had  written  to  me  that  she  was 
indisposed,  when  she  might  have  told  me  plainly, 
with  the  hideous  frankness  of  certain  women,  that 
she  had  to  receive  a  lover  ;  and,  instead  of  believing 
in  her  letter — instead  of  taking  a  walk  in  all  the 
streets  of  Paris,  except  the  Rue  d'Antin — instead 
of  passing  the  evening  with  my  friends,  and  of  pre- 
senting myself  the  next  day  at  the  hour  she  had 
named  to  me— I  acted  the  Othello— I  spied  on  her— 


136     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

and  thought  to  punish  her  by  seeing  her  no  more.  But 
she  must,  on  the  contrary,  be  enchanted  by  this 
separation — she  must  find  me  extremely  silly,  and 
her  silence  was  not  even  revengeful — it  was  disdainful 

I  ought,  then,  to  have  made  Marguerite  a  present, 
which  would  leave  her  no  doubt  as  to  my  generosity, 
and  which  would  have  allowed  me,  treating  her  as  the 
mistress  of  another,  to  think  myself  quits  with  her ; 
but  I  should  have  feared  to  wound,  by  the  least 
appearance  of  traffic,  if  not  the  love  she  had  for  me, 
at  least  the  love  I  had  for  her  ;  and  since  this  love  was 
so  pure  that  it  admitted  of  no  partners  in  it,  I  could 
not  pay  with  a  present,  however  handsome  it  might  be 
for  the  happiness  I  had  experienced,  however  short 
this  happiness  may  have  been. 

This  is  what  I  repeated  to  myself  during  the  night, 
and  what  I  was  ready  at  any  moment  to  go  and 
say  to  Marguerite. 

When  day  dawned,  I  had  not  yet  slept — I  was 
feverish — it  was  impossible  for  me  to  think  of  any- 
thing else  than  Marguerite. 

As  you  may  understand,  it  was  necessary  to  take 
a  decisive  part,  and  to  finish  with  this  woman  or 
with  my  scruples,  if,  however,  she  should  consent 
to  receive  me. 

But,  you  know,  one  always  delays  taking  a  decisive 
step  ;  therefore,  not  being  able  to  stay  at  home,  and 
not  daring  to  present  myself  at  Marguerite's,  I  tried 
a  method  of  approaching  her,  which  my  vanity  could 
attribute  to  chance,  in  case  it  succeeded. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  ;  I  hastened  to  Prudence, 
who  asked  me  to  what  cause  she  owed  this  early 
visit. 

I  dared  not  tell  her  frankly  what  had  brought  me 
there.    I  answered  that  I  had  come  out  early  to  take 

a  place  on  the  diligence  going  to  C ,  where  my 

father  lived. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     137 

"  You  arc  very  lucky,"  she  said,  "  to  be  able  to 
quit  Paris  this  beautiful  weather." 

I  looked  at  Prudence,  asking  myself  if  she  was 
mocking  me. 

But  her  face  was  serious. 

"  Are  you  going  to  say  adieu  to  Marguerite  ?  " 
she  resumed,  still  seriously. 

"  No." 

"  You  do  well." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  Naturally.  Since  you  have  broken  off  with  her, 
of  what  good  is  it  to  see  her  ?  " 

"  You  know,  then,  of  our  rupture  ?  " 

"  She  showed  me  your  letter." 

"  And  what  did  she  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  She  said  to  me, '  My  dear  Prudence,  your  proteg^ 
is  not  polite  ;  one  thinks  such  letters,  but  one  does 
not  write  them.'  " 

"  And  in  what  tone  did  she  say  that  to  you  ?  " 

"  Laughing  ;  and  she  added,  '  He  has  supped 
i\nce  with  me,  and  he  does  not  even  favour  me  with  a 
visit  of  digestion.'  " 

Here  was  the  effect  which  my  letter  and  my 
jealousy  had  produced.  I  was  cruelly  humiliated  in 
the  vanity  of  my  love. 

"  And  what  did  she  do  yesterday  evening  ?  " 

"  She  went  to  the  Opera." 

"  I  know  that.    And  what  next  ?  " 

"  She  supped  at  home." 

"  Alone  ?  " 

"  With  the  Count  de  G ,  I  believe." 

Thus  my  rupture  had  changed  nothing  in  Mar- 
guerite's habits. 

It  is  in  consequence  of  such  circumstances  as 
these,  that  some  people  say  to  you  ! 

"  You  must  think  no  more  of  that  woman,  who 
did  not  love  you." 


138     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Well,  I  am  very  happy  to  see  that  Marguerite 
does  not  make  herself  miserable  on  my  account," 
I  added,  with  a  forced  smile. 

"  And  she  is  very  right.  You  have  done  what  you 
ought  to  have  done  ;  you  have  been  more  reasonable 
than  she,  for  she  loved  you  ;  she  did  nothing  but 
talk  of  you,  and  she  would  have  been  capable  of 
committing  any  absurdity  on  your  account." 

"  Why  did  she  not  answer  me  then,  since  she 
loves  me  ?  " 

"  Because  she  understood  that  she  was  wrong 
to  love  you.  Women  allow  now  and  then  their  love 
to  be  deceived,  but  never  allow  their  self-love  to  be 
wounded  ;  and  one  always  hurts  the  self-love  of  a 
woman  when,  two  days  after  being  her  lover,  one 
leaves  her,  whatever  may  be  the  reasons  given  as 
the  cause  of  this  rupture.  I  know  Marguerite — 
she  would  die  rather  than  answer  you." 

"  What  must  I  do,  then  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  She  will  forget  you — you  will  forget 
her — and  you  will  have  nothing  with  which  to 
reproach  each  other." 

"  But  if  I  were  to  write  to  her  to  ask  pardon  of 
her  ?  " 

"  Do  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  she  would  pardon  you." 

I  was  on  the  point  of  throwing  my  arms  round 
Prudence's  neck. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  I  returned  home, 
and  I  wrote  to  Marguerite  : 

"  Someone  who  repents  of  a  letter  which  he  wrote 
yesterday,  and  who  will  depart  to-morrow  if  you  do 
not  pardon  him,  wishes  to  know  at  what  hour  he  can 
place  his  repentance  at  your  feet. 

"  When  will  he  find  you  alone  ?  because,  you  must 
know  it,  confessions  should  be  made  without  wit- 
nesses." 

I  folded  up  this  sort  of  madrigal  in  prose,  and  I 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     139 

sent  it  by  Joseph,  who  delivered  the  letter  to  Mar- 
guerite herself,  who  told  him  that  she  would  answer 
it  by  and  by. 

I  went  out  but  for  one  minute  to  dine,  and  at 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening  I  had  not  received  an 
answer. 

I  then  resolved  not  to  suffer  any  longer,  and  to  set 
out  the  next  day. 

In  consequence  of  this  resolution,  convinced  that  I 
should  not  sleep  if  I  went  to  bed,  I  proceeded  to  pack 
up  my  boxes. 


CHAPTER  XV 

Joseph  and  I  had  been  occupied  for  about  an  hour 
in  preparing  for  my  departure,  when  some  one  rang 
the  bell  violently  at  the  door. 

"  Shall  I  open  it  ?  "  asked  Joseph. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  wondering  who  could  visit  me  at 
such  an  hour,  and  not  daring  to  hope  that  it  was 
Marguerite. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Joseph  re-entering, "  here  are  two 
ladies." 

"  It  is  we,  Armand,"  said  a  voice,  which  I  recognised 
as  that  of  Prudence. 

I  came  from  my  bedchamber. 

Prudence,  standing,  examined  the  various  curios- 
ities in  my  sitting-room.  Marguerite,  seated  on  the 
sofa,  seemed  wrapped  in  thought. 

When  I  entered,  I  ran  to  her,  I  knelt,  I  took 
both  her  hands,  and,  greatly  moved,  I  exclaimed 
"  Pardon  !  " 

She  kissed  my  forehead  and  replied  : 

"  This  is  already  the  third  time  that  I  have  par- 
doned you." 

"  I  was  about  to  depart  to-morrow." 

"  And  in  what  way  can  my  visit  change  j^our 
intention  ?  I  have  not  come  to  prevent  your  quitting 
Paris.  I  have  come  because  I  had  not  time  during 
the  day  to  answer  your  letter,  and  did  not  wish  to 
leave  you  to  believe  that  I  was  angry  with  you. 
Prudence,  however,  was  unwilling  that  I  should 
come.    She  said  that  I  should,  perhaps,  disturb  you." 

140 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     141 

"  You  disturb  me,  Marguerite  ?  You !  And 
how  ?  " 

"  Why !  you  might  have  a  lady  with  you," 
rcpUcd  Prudence  ;  "  and  it  would  not  have  been 
very  amusing  for  her  to  witness  the  arrival  of  the 
nurse." 

During  this  observation.  Marguerite  regarded  me 
attentively. 

"  My  dear  Prudence,"  replied  I,  "  You  do  not 
know  what  you  are  saying." 

"  Your  apartment  is  very  elegant,"  replied  Prud- 
ence ;  "  can  one  see  your  sleeping-room  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

Prudence  entered  my  bedroom,  less  to  examine 
it  than  to  repair  the  absurdity  she  had  uttered,  and 
to  leave  us  alone — Marguerite  and  myself. 

"  Why  did  you  bring  Prudence  ?  " 

"  Because  she  had  been  with  me  to  the  play  ; 
and,  also,  because  I  wished  to  have  someone  to 
accompany  me  on  leaving  here." 

"  Was  I  not  here  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  besides  that  I  did  not  wish  to  disturb 
you.  I  was  certain  that  in  accompanying  me  home, 
you  would  wish  to  come  up  to  my  apartments  ; 
and,  as  I  could  not  concede  this,  I  did  not  choose  that 
you  should  depart  with  the  right  to  reproach  me 
with  a  refusal." 

"  And  why  could  you  not  receive  me  at  your  own 
house  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  closely  watched,  and  the  smallest 
suspicion  might,  to  me,  be  great  injury." 

"  Is  that  the  only  reason  ?  " 

"  If  there  were  any  other,  I  should  tell  you.  We 
are  at  such  a  point  that  we  should  have  no  secrets 
from  each  other." 

"  Come,  Marguerite,  I  don't  wish  to  disguise  what 
I  have  to  say  ;  frankly,  do  you  love  me  a  little  ?  " 


142     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Very  much." 

"  Then  why  play  me  false  ?  " 

"  My  friend,  if  I  were  the  Duchess  of  this  or  that, 
if  I  had  200,000  francs  of  income,  if  I  were  then  your 
mistress  and  had  another  lover,  you  would  have  a 
right  to  ask  me  that  question  ; — but  I  am  Marguerite 
Gautier — and  40,000  francs  in  debt.  I  have  not  a 
fortune  of  a  sou,  and  I  spend  100,000  francs  a  year. 
Your  question  is  therefore  idle,  and  my  answer  is 
unnecessary." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  I,  letting  my  head  drop  upon 
Marguerite's  knees  ;  "  but  I  love  you  like  a  mad- 
man." 

"  But  you  must  love  me  a  little  less,  or  understand 
me  a  little  better.  Your  letter  has  given  me  great 
pain.  If  I  had  been  free,  I  should  not,  to  begin  with, 
have  received  the  Count  the  day  before  yesterday  ; 
or,  having  received  him,  I  should  have  come  to  ask 
from  you  the  pardon  which  you  just  now  asked 
from  me,  and  I  should  not,  for  the  future,  have  any 
lover  but  yourself. 

"  For  a  moment  I  believed  that  I  might  enjoy, 
for  a  few  months,  the  happiness  of  which  we  had 
spoken  ;  but  you  would  not  have  it.  You  insist  upon 
knowing  the  means  by  which  I  was  to  accomplish  it. 
Those  means  were  not  difficult  to  conjecture  ;  but 
it  was  a  greater  sacrifice  than  you  imagined  for  me 
to  resort  to  them.  I  might  have  said  to  you,  '  I 
want  20,000  francs  '  ;  you  were  in  love  with  me  ; 
you  would  have  obtained  them,  at  the  risk  of  reproach- 
ing me  hereafter  with  having  done  so.  I  should 
have  preferred  to  owe  you  nothing  ;  but  you  did  not 
understand  this  feeling  of  delicacy,  for  it  was  such. 
Girls  like  me,  when  we  have  a  little  feeling  left,  give 
to  words  and  things  a  scope  and  an  expression  un- 
known to  other  women  ;  and  I  repeat  to  5^ou,  there- 
fore, that  for  Marguerite  Gautier,  the  method  by 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     143 

which  she  proposed  paying  her  debts,  without  asking 
you  for  the  money  necessary  for  that  purpose,  was  an 
act  of  dehcacy,  which  ought  to  have  been  adopted 
without  remark.  If  our  acquaintance  had  commenced 
to-day,  you  would  have  been  too  happy  to  accept 
what  I  proposed,  and  you  would  not  ask  me  what 
I  did  the  day  before  yesterday.  We  are,  sometimes, 
forced  to  purchase  a  gratification  for  our  soul  at  the 
cost  of  our  bodies  ;  and  we  suffer  greatly  when,  after 
all,  the  promised  gratification  escapes  us." 

I  gazed  upon  Marguerite,  and  listened  to  her  with 
admiration.  When  I  reflected  that  this  lovely 
creature,  whose  feet  I  should  have  been  delighted 
to  kiss  but  a  short  time  previously,  now  consented  to 
give  me  a  part  in  her  thoughts,  a  share  in  her  life, 
and  that  I  was  not  contented,  even  with  this,  I  could 
not  but  ask  myself  if  a  man's  desires  have  any  limit  ; 
when,  gratified  so  promptly  as  mine  had  been,  they 
already  demanded  something  more. 

"  It  is  true,"  remarked  she,  "  we  creatures  of 
chance,  we  have  fantastic  wishes  and  unaccountable 
loves.  We  give  ourselves,  now  for  one  thing,  now 
for  another.  There  are  men  who  ruin  themselves 
for  us,  and  yet  obtain  no  favour  at  our  hands ; 
while  others  win  us  with  a  bouquet  !  Our  hearts 
have  their  caprices — their  sole  distraction  and  their 
sole  excuse.  I  swear  to  you  that  I  gave  myself  to  you 
sooner  than  I  ever  did  to  any  other  man  ;  and  why  ? 
Because,  seeing  me  raise  blood,  you  took  my  hand  and 
you  shed  tears  ;  because  you  are  the  only  human 
creature  that  ever  cared  to  pity  me, 

"  I  am  about  to  say  a  foolish  thing  ;  but  it  is 
true.  I  once  had  a  little  dog,  who  used  to  gaze 
sorrowfully  upon  me  when  I  coughed ;  and  that  is  the 
only  living  thing  that  I  ever  loved.  When  it  died, 
I  wept  more  than  at  the  death  of  my  mother.  It 
is  true  that  the  latter  had  done  nothing  but  beat 


144     THE  LADY  WITPI  THE  CAMELIAS 

ine  for  twelve  years  of  her  life  !  Well,  I  suddenly 
loved  you  as  much  as  I  had  loved  my  dog.  If  men 
knew  what  they  could  purchase  with  a  single  tear, 
they  would  be  more  beloved,  and  we  should  be 
less  ruinous  to  them  I 

"  Your  letter  betrayed  you.  It  showed  that  you 
had  "not  the  true  intelligence  of  the  heart,  and  it 
weakened  my  love  for  you  more  than  anything  else 
could  have  done.  It  showed  jealousy,  it  is  true,  but  a 
jealousy  ironical  and  impertinent.  I  was  already 
sad  when  your  letter  arrived  ;  I  expected  to  see 
you  at  noon — to  breakfast  with  you  ;  to  efface,  in 
fact,  a  thought  which  haunted  me,  but  which  before 
knowing  you  had  caused  me  no  uneasiness. 

"  Moreover,  you  were  the  only  person  before  whom 
I  had  imagined  that  I  could  think  and  speak  freely. 
All  those  who  surround  girls  like  me,  watch  their 
least  word,  and  seek  to  draw  a  meaning  from  their 
most  insignificant  action.  Naturally  enough,  we 
have  no  friends.  We  have  selfish  lovers,  who  waste 
their  fortunes — not  for  us,  as  they  tell  us,  but  to 
gratify  their  own  vanity, 

"  For  such  persons,  we  must  be  gay  when  they 
are  joyous — in  good  health  when  they  wish  to  sup — 
sceptics  because  they  are  such.  We  are  forbidden  to 
have  hearts,  under  penalty  of  being  hooted  and 
losing  our  credit. 

"  We  no  longer  belong  to  ourselves.  We  are  no 
longer  beings,  but  things.  We  occupy  the  first  place 
in  their  self-love,  the  last  in  their  esteem.  We  have 
friends  ;  but  they  are  friends  like  Prudence — women 
who  formerly  lived  as  we  do,  and  who  still  retain 
the  habits  of  expense  which  their  age  no  longer 
permits  them  the  means  of  indulging.  They  then 
become  our  friends,  or  rather  our  pensioners.  Their 
friendship  extends  to  servility,  but  never  to 
disinterestedness.     They    never   give    us    any    but 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     145 

mercenary  advice.  Little  do  they  care  if  we  have 
ten  lovers  at  once,  provided  that  they  receive  in 
consequence  a  dress  or  a  bracelet,  and  that  they  can 
occasionally  take  a  drive  in  our  carriage,  or  have 
a  place  in  our  box  at  the  theatre.  They  have  our 
yesterday's  bouquets,  and  we  lend  them  our  cash- 
meres. They  never  render  us  any  service,  however 
trifling,  without  making  us  pay  double  what  it  is 
worth.  You  3'ourself  saw,  that  on  the  evening  when 
Prudence  brought  me  six  thousand  francs,  which  I  had 
sent  her  to  the  Duke  for,  she  borrowed  five  hundred 
francs,  which  she  will  never  pay  me,  or  pay  me  in 
bonnets  that  I  shall  never  wear. 

"  We  can  have,  then — or,  rather,  /  could  have — 
but  one  happiness — sad  as  I  sometimes  am,  suffering 
as  I  always  do — that  of  finding  a  man  sufficiently 
superior  not  to  demand  an  account  of  my  life,  and  to 
be  the  lover  of  my  imagination  rather  than  of  my 
person.  Such  a  man  I  had  found  in  the  Duke  ;  but 
the  Duke  is  old,  and  age  neither  protects  nor  sym- 
pathises, I  had  fancied  that  I  could  lead  the  life 
which  he  offered  me  :  but  what  will  you  have  ? 
I  was  dying  of  ennui,  and  if  one  must  die,  one  would 
prefer  throwing  one's  self  into  the  fire,  or  being 
suffocated  with  charcoal, 

"  Then  I  met  you — you,  young,  ardent,  and  happy ; 
and  I  sought  to  make  of  you  the  man  whom  I  had 
imagined  in  my  solitude.  What  I  loved  in  you  was, 
not  the  man  that  you  are,  but  the  man  that  you  are 
capable  of  being.  You  do  not  accept  this  character  ; 
you  reject  it  as  unworthy  of  you  ;  you  are  a  common- 
place boor.  Do  like  others  :  pay  me,  and  let  us  say 
no  more  about  it." 

Marguerite,  fatigued  by  this  long  confession,  threw 
herself  back  upon  the  sofa  ;  and,  to  check  a  slight 
attack  of  coughing,  pressed  her  handkerchief  to  her 
lips,  and  even  to  her  eyes. 


146     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  Forgive  me  !  oh,  forgive  me  !  "  I  murmured. 
"  I  had  begun  to  comprehend  all  this,  but  I  wished  to 
hear  you  say  it,  my  adored  Marguerite.  Let  us  forget 
all  else,  and  remember  but  one  thing — ^that  we  belong 
to  each  other,  that  we  are  young,  and  that  we  love 
each  other.  Make  of  me  what  you  will.  Marguerite  ; 
I  am  your  slave,  your  dog  ;  but,  for  Heaven's  sake, 
destroy  the  letter  which  I  wrote  to  you,  and  do  not 
let  me  go  away  to-morrow." 

Marguerite  took  my  letter  from  her  bosom,  and, 
handing  it  to  me,  said  with  inexpressible  sweet- 
ness : 

"  See,  I  brought  it  for  you." 

I  destroyed  the  letter,  and  kissed  the  hand  which 
restored  it  to  me. 

At  this  moment  Prudence  reappeared. 

"  Tell  me.  Prudence,"  said  Marguerite,  "  do  you 
know  what  he  asks  ?  " 

"  He  asks  pardon." 

"  Exactly." 

"  And  you  grant  it." 

"  I  could  not  help  it.  But  he  wants  something 
else." 

"What  is  it  ?  " 

"  He  wishes  to  come  and  sup  with  us." 

"  And  you  consent  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  think  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  are  two  children  who  have  not  a 
head  between  you.  But  I  think,  also,  that  I  am 
very  hungry,  and  that  the  sooner  you  consent  the 
sooner  we  shall  sup." 

"  And  then,"  said  Marguerite,  "  my  carriage  will 
hold  three.  By  the  way,"  added  she,  turning  towards 
me,  "  Nanine  will  be  in  bed  ;  you  must  open  the 
door.    Take  my  key,  and  try  not  to  lose  it  again." 

I  smothered  Marguerite  with  kisses. 

Joseph  entered  at  this  moment. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     147 

"  Monsieur,"  said  he,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  is 
proud  of  what  he  has  accompHshed,  "  the  trunks 
are  packed." 

"  Completely  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Very  well.  Then  unpack  them  again.  I  am 
not  going  away." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

I  MIGHT  have  told  you  (continued  Armand)  the  history 
of  this  liaison  in  a  few  words  ;  but  I  wished  you  to 
see  by  what  means  and  by  what  gradation  we  have 
come  to  this  point :  I,  to  consent  to  whatever  Mar- 
guerite desired  ;  she,  to  being  unable  to  live  without 
me. 

It  was  on  the  day  after  the  evening  of  her  visit 
to  me  that  I  sent  her  Manon  Lescaut. 

From  that  moment,  as  I  could  not  change  the 
mode  of  life  of  my  mistress  I  changed  my  own.  Of 
all  things,  I  was  most  desirous  not  to  leave  myself 
time  to  reflect  upon  the  character  which  I  had 
accepted  ;  for  in  spite  of  myself  I  should  have  been 
very  sad.  My  ordinarily  calm  life,  therefore,  suddenly 
assumed  an  air  of  noise  and  disorder.  And  do  not 
imagine  that,  however  disinterested,  the  attachment 
of  such  a  girl  costs  nothing.  Nothing  is  so  dear  as 
the  thousand  caprices  of  flowers,  of  boxes,  of  suppers, 
and  of  rural  parties,  which  one  can  never  refuse  to 
his  mistress. 

As  I  have  told  you,  I  had  no  fortune.    My  father 

was,  and  still  is,  Receiver-General  at  C .    He  has  a 

high  reputation  for  integrity,  thanks  to  which  he  was 
able  to  obtain  the  money  which  it  was  necessary  to 
deposit  before  entering  upon  his  functions.  This 
office  produces  him  40,000  francs  peryear;  and, during 
the  ten  years  that  he  had  held  it,  he  has  reimbursed 
the  money  advanced  for  his  deposit,  and  laid  up  a 
dowry  for  my  sister.   My  father  is  the  most  honourable 

148 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     149 

man  that  can  be  imagined.  My  mother,  at  her  death, 
left  6,000  francs  of  income,  which  he  divided  between 
my  sister  and  me,  the  moment  that  he  obtained  the 
appointment  in  question  ;  and  in  addition  to  this 
when  I  attained  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  gave  me  an 
annuity  of  5,000  francs — assuring  me  that  with  8,000 
francs  I  might  live  exceedingly  well  in  Paris,  if  I 
chose,  besides  making  for  myself  a  vocation,  either 
in  the  law  or  in  medicine.  I  came,  therefore,  to  Paris, 
pursued  my  studies,  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and, 
like  too  many  other  young  men,  I  put  my  diploma 
in  my  pocket,  and  abandoned  myself  to  the  indolent 
and  careless  life  of  Paris.  My  expenses  were  very 
moderate  ;  but  I  spent  in  eight  months  my  year's 
income,  and  then  passed  the  four  summer  months 
at  my  father's  house,  which  gave  me,  practically, 
an  income  of  12,000  francs  and  the  reputation  of 
being  a  dutiful  son. 

But  I  was  not  a  penny  in  debt. 

Such  were  my  circumstances  when  I  became 
acquainted  with  Marguerite. 

You  will  understand  that,  in  my  own  despite,  my 
expense  of  living  was  augmented.  Marguerite  was  of 
a  very  capricious  nature,  and  was  one  of  those  women 
who  have  never  regarded  as  an  expense  of  any  im- 
portance, the  cost  of  the  thousand  little  distractions 
of  which  their  life  is  made  up.  The  result  was  that, 
wishing  to  pass  as  much  time  as  possible  with  me, 
she  would  write  to  me  in  the  morning  that  she  would 
dine  with  me  ; — not  at  her  own  apartments,  but  at 
some  restaurant  either  in  town  or  country.  I  would 
call  for  her  ;  we  would  dine,  go  to  the  play,  and  very 
often  have  supper  ;  so  that  by  the  evening  I  had  spent 
four  or  five  louis  d'or,  which  made  2,500  or  3,000 
francs  per  month,  and  so  reduced  my  year  to  about 
three  months  and  a  half,  and  placed  me  in  the  position 
of  either  running  into  debt  or  quitting  Marguerite. 


150    THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Of  course,  I  adopted  any  but  this  latter  alterna- 
tive. 

Forgive  me  for  troubling  you  with  all  these 
details  ;  but  you  will  see  that  they  were  the  causes 
of  the  events  which  are  to  follow.  What  I  am 
narrating  is  a  true  and  real  history,  to  which  I  leave 
all  its  natural  simplicity  of  incident  and  of  develop- 
ment. 

I  soon  began  to  understand,  therefore,  that,  as 
nothing  on  earth  could  induce  me  to  abandon  my 
mistress,  it  was  imperative  that  I  should  find  some 
means  of  meeting  the  expenses  which  she  caused  me 
to  incur.  Besides  which  this  passion  absorbed  me  so 
completely  that  the  moments  which  I  passed  away 
from  Marguerite  became  years  ;  and  I  felt  the  neces- 
sity of  consuming  those  moments  by  the  fire  of  some 
passion  or  other,  and  thus  to  spend  them  so  rapidly 
as  not  to  perceive  the  lapse  of  time. 

I  commenced  by  borrowing  6,000  francs  upon  my 
small  capital,  and  I  began  to  play;  for,  since  the 
gambling-houses  have  been  closed,  people  gamble 
everywhere.  Formerly,  when  a  man  entered  Frascati's 
it  was  with  a  chance  of  making  his  fortune.  He 
played  against  actual  money,  and  if  he  lost  he  had 
at  least  the  consolation  of  knowing  he  might  have 
won  ;  while  now,  except  in  the  clubs  where  there  is 
still  a  certain  rigour  respecting  payment,  a  man 
has  almost  the  certainty  that  if  he  wins  a  sum  of  any 
importance  he  will  never  receive  it.  The  reason  is 
easy  to  conceive. 

Play  is  resorted  to  only  by  young  men  having 
extensive  wants,  and  lacking  the  fortune  requisite  to 
sustain  the  sort  of  life  that  they  lead.  They  play, 
therefore  ;  and  the  natural  result  is  this  : — either 
they  v/in,  and  the  losers  furnish  the  money  to  pay 
for  the  horses  and  the  mistresses  of  these  youths, 
which  is  very  droll ; — or  they  lose,  and  as  they  already 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     151 

lack  the  money  to  live  upon,  they  must  only  the  more 
peremptorily  lack  that  wherewith  to  pay  their  losses, 
which  is  very  unpleasant.  They  begin  to  get  into 
debt,  relations  commenced  around  a  green-covered 
table  finish  by  quarrels  in  which  both  honour  and 
life  suffer  considerably ;  and  one  who  is  really  an 
honest  man  is  liable  to  find  himself  ruined  by  worthy 
young  fellows,  whose  great  fault  appears  to  be  that 
they  are  not  in  possession  of  incomes  of  two  hundred 
thousand  francs. 

I  need  not  speak  of  those  who  cheat  at  play,  and 
of  whom  one  learns,  some  say,  either  the  compulsory 
departure,  or  the  tardy  punishment. 

I  plunged  wildly,  therefore,  into  this  mad  and 
exciting  life,  which  it  had  before  affrighted  me  only 
to  look  upon,  but  which  had  become  the  inevitable 
complement  of  my  love  for  Marguerite. 

During  the  nights  which  I  did  not  pass  in  the 
Rue  d'Antin,  I  should  not  have  slept  had  I  remained 
at  home.  Jealousy  would  have  made  me  sleepless; 
while  play  diverted  for  the  moment  the  fever  which 
would  have  consumed  my  heart,  and  poured  it 
upon  a  passion,  the  interest  of  which  fascinated  me, 
in  spite  of  myself,  until  the  hour  when  I  was  to  repair 
to  Marguerite.  At  that  hour,  at  that  moment, — 
and  in  this  I  detected  the  power  which  my  love 
possessed  over  me, — whether  I  was  gaining  or  losing, 
I  left  the  table  unhesitatingly,  pitying  those  who 
remained,  and  who  could  not,  like  me,  find  happiness 
in  leaving  it. 

For  most  persons,  play  is  a  necessity  ;  for  me  it 
was  a  remedy. 

Cured  of  Marguerite,  I  should  have  been  cured  of 
play. 

Thus,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  I  retained  my  coolness. 
I  lost  no  more  than  I  could  pay,  and  I  won  no  more 
than  I  could  have  afforded  to  lose. 


152     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Moreover,  chance  favoured  me.  I  incurred  no 
debts,  and  yet  I  expended  three  times  as  much  money 
as  I  did  before  I  began  to  play.  It  was  not  easy  to 
escape  from  a  life  which  permitted  me,  without 
embarrassing  myself,  to  satisfy  the  thousand  cap- 
rices of  Marguerite.  As  for  herself,  she  continued  to 
love  me  as  much  as  ever,  or  even  more. 

As  I  have  told  you,  I  began  by  being  received 
only  from  midnight  until  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, — 
then  I  was  admitted  occasionally  to  her  box, — and 
she  would  come  sometim.es  to  dine  with  me.  One 
morning,  however,  I  did  not  leave  her  until  eight 
o'clock,  and  at  length  there  came  a  day  when  I  did 
not  depart  till  noon. 

Pending  the  moral  metamorphosis,  a  physical 
change  had  taken  place  in  Marguerite.  I  had  under- 
taken to  cure  her,  and  the  poor  girl,  divining  my 
purpose,  had  obeyed  me  to  prove  her  gratitude.  I 
had  thus  succeeded,  without  effort,  in  isolating  her 
almost  completely  from  her  former  associations  and 
habits.  My  physician,  whom  I  had  consulted  about 
her,  had  told  me  that  nothing  but  repose  and  quiet 
could  preserve  her  health  ;  and  for  the  suppers  and 
whole  nights  of  dissipation  I  had  succeeded  in  sub- 
stituting a  system  of  diet,  and  regular  hours  of  sleep. 
In  her  own  despite.  Marguerite  habituated  herself 
to  this  new  existence, — the  beneficial  effects  of  which 
she  so  sensibly  felt.  She  began  already  to  pass  whole 
evenings  at  home  ;  or  even,  if  the  v/eather  were  fine, 
she  would  wrap  herself  in  a  shawl,  cover  her  head 
with  a  veil,  and  we  would  go  together  like  two  children 
to  spend  the  evening  in  the  shaded  alleys  of  the 
Champs  Elysees.  She  would  return  fatigued,  sup 
lightly,  retire  after  playing  a  few  airs  upon  her  piano, 
or  even  after  having  read  for  a  short  time — a  thing 
which  she  had  never  done  before.  In  this  way  her 
health  was  rapidly  restored.    The  cough,  which  had 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     153 

formerly  seemed  to  rend  my  own  chest  every  time 
that  I  heard  it,  had  almost  entirely  disappeared. 

At  the  end  of  six  weeks,  there  was  no  longer  any 
question  of  the  Count.  He  was  definitely  sacrificed. 
The  Duke  alone  made  it  necessary  for  me  to  conceal 
my  liaison  with  Marguerite  ;  and  even  he  had  been 
often  dismissed  while  I  was  there,  under  pretext  that 
Marguerite  was  sleeping  and  had  forbidden  that  any 
one  should  wake  her. 

It  constantly  happened,  therefore,  from  the  habit, 
and  even  the  necessity,  which  Marguerite  had 
acquired,  of  seeing  me,  that  I  left  the  gambling-table 
at  the  precise  moment  at  which  an  expert  player 
would  have  quitted  it.  And  on  making  up  my 
accounts,  I  found  myself  master  of  some  10,000 
francs  ;  which  seemed  to  mean  inexhaustible  capital. 

The  period  at  which  I  was  accustomed  to  visit  my 
father  and  sister  had  arrived,  and  yet  I  did  not  go  ; 
and  I  began  to  receive  frequent  letters,  from  one  or 
the  other,  begging  me  to  come  to  them.  To  all  these 
requests,  I  made  the  best  reply  that  I  could  invent  ; 
repeating  constantly  that  I  was  very  well  and  not  in 
want  of  money  ; — ^two  things  which,  I  was  persuaded, 
would  console  my  father  somewhat  for  the  delay  of 
my  annual  visit. 

Amidst  all  this,  it  chanced  one  morning  that 
Marguerite,  being  awakened  by  a  brilliant  sunshine, 
sprung  out  of  her  bed,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  take 
her  into  the  country  for  the  day. 

We  sent  for  Prudence,  and  all  three  of  us  started, 
after  Marguerite  had  directed  Nanine  to  tell  the  Duke 
that  she  had  taken  advantage  of  so  lovely  a  day, 
and  had  gone  into  the  country  with  Madame  Duver- 
noy. 

Besides  the  fact  that  her  presence  was  necessary 
to  satisfy  the  Duke,  Prudence  was  one  of  those  persons 
who  seem  to  be  made  expressly  for  these  country 


154     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

parties.  With  her  invariable  gaiety,  and  her  eternal 
appetite,  she  could  not  leave  a  moment's  ennui  to 
those  whom  she  accompanied,  and  was  admirably 
experienced  in  ordering  the  eggs,  the  cherries,  the 
stewed  rabbit,  and  the  various  trifles  which  form 
the  traditional  breakfast  of  the  environs  of  Paris. 

It  only  remained  for  us  to  know  where  we  were 
going. 

It  was  Prudence  again  who  relieved  our  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  go  really  into  the  country  ?  " 
asked  she. 

"  Yes." 

"  Very  well,  then  ;  let  us  go  to  Bougival,  to  the 
'  Break  of  Day,'  kept  by  the  widow  Arnold.  Armand, 
go  and  hire  a  carriage." 

An  hour  and  a  half  later  we  were  at  the  widow 
Arnold's. 

You  perhaps  know  this  inn  ;  hotel  during  the  week, 
pleasure-garden  on  the  Sunday.  From  the  garden, 
which  is  on  the  level  of  an  ordinary  first  floor,  there 
is  a  magnificent  prospect.  On  the  left,  the  aqueduct 
of  Marly  bounds  the  horizon  ;  on  the  right,  the  view 
extends  over  an  infinity  of  hills  ;  the  river,  almost 
without  current  at  this  point,  unrolls  itself  like  a 
vast  white  riband,  between  the  plain  of  the  Gabillons 
and  the  Isle  of  Croissy,  cradled  amidst  its  high  poplars 
and  whispering  willows. 

At  one's  foot,  in  the  broad  sunshine,  rise  numerous 
little  white  houses  with  their  red  roofs — and  factories 
which,  losing  in  the  distance  their  vulgar  and  com- 
mercial character,  charmingly  complete  the  landscape. 

In  the  distance  lay  Paris,  shrouded  in  the  haze. 
As  Prudence  had  said,  it  was  really  "  the  country  "  ; 
and  I  must  confess  also,  that  we  made  a  real  break- 
fast. 

It  is  not  in  acknowledgment  of  the  happiness  which 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     155 

I  have  enjoyed  there,  that  I  say  all  this  ;  for,  despite 
its  frightful  name,  Bougival  is  one  of  the  prettiest 
places  that  can  be  imagined.  I  have  travelled  a 
great  deal,  and  have  seen  many  grand  things  ;  but 
never  one  more  charming  than  this  little  village,  gaily 
nestled  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which  protects  it. 

Madame  Arnold  offered  to  take  us  upon  the  water 
in  a  boat  ;  a  proposition  which  was  accepted  with 
delight  by  Marguerite  and  Prudence. 

Love  and  the  country  are  always  associated  in 
idea,  and  justly  so  ;  nothing  surrounds  so  appro- 
priately the  woman  of  our  love  as  the  blue  sky,  the 
sweet  odours,  the  flowers,  the  breeze,  and  the  glowing 
sunlight  of  the  woods  or  the  fields.  However  tenderly 
a  man  may  love  a  woman,  however  absolute  his 
confidence  in  her,  whatever  certainty  for  the  future  he 
may  be  able  to  derive  from  the  past,  he  is  always 
more  or  less  jealous.  If  you  have  ever  been  in  love 
— seriously  in  love, — you  must  have  experienced  this 
wish  of  isolating  from  the  world  the  being  whom  you 
desire  should  live  only  and  entirely  for  yourself. 
It  would  appear  that,  however  indifferent  she  may 
be  to  those  who  surround  her,  the  beloved  object 
loses  something  of  its  perfume  and  exclusiveness  by 
mere  association  with  men  and  things.  I  felt  this 
especially.  My  love  was  not  an  ordinary  passion. 
I  was  as  much  in  love  as  a  human  being  could  be, 
but  it  was  with  Marguerite  Gautier  ;  which  is  to 
say,  that  at  Paris,  at  every  step  I  might  jostle  some 
man  who  had  been  her  lover,  or  who  might  be  such 
the  next  day  ;  while  in  the  country,  amidst  people 
whom  we  had  never  seen,  and  who  did  not  trouble 
themselves  about  us, — surrounded  by  nature  in  all 
the  loveliness  of  spring,  and  separated  from  the 
noise  of  the  town,  I  could  love  in  secret,  and  love 
without  shame  or  apprehension. 

The   courtezan  disappeared  by  degrees  ;    and  I 


156     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

had  beside  me  a  young  and  beautiful  girl,  whom  I 
loved,  who  loved  me,  and  who  was  named  Marguerite. 
The  past  was  forgotten,  or  remembered  too  vaguely 
to  cause  any  uneasiness.  The  sun  shone  upon  her, 
as  it  would  have  done  upon  the  chastest  bride. 
We  wandered  together  amid  those  charming  scenes 
which  appear  to  have  been  created  expressly  to 
recall  the  poems  of  Lamartine,  or  echo  the  melodies 
of  Scudo.  Marguerite  was  dressed  in  white, — she 
hung  upon  my  arm, — she  repeated  to  me,  in  the 
evening  and  beneath  the  starry  sky,  the  words  which 
she  had  uttered  on  the  previous  day ;  and  the  distant 
world  continued  its  busy  life,  without  darkening  by 
its  shadow  the  smiling  picture  of  our  youth  and 
love. 

Such  was  the  dream  which,  through  the  over- 
shadowing leaves,  was  brought  to  me  by  the  glowing 
sunshine  of  this  day ;  while  reclined  at  length  upon 
the  turf  of  the  little  islet  where  we  had  landed,  I 
allowed  my  thoughts — free  from  all  the  human  ties 
which  before  restrained  them — to  wander  at  will, 
and  gather,  like  flowers,  all  the  hopes  that  bloomed 
upon  their  path. 

Add  to  this,  that  from  the  place  where  we  were,  I 
saw  upon  the  shore  a  charming  little  house  of  two 
storeys,  enclosed  by  a  semicircular  railing  ;  within 
the  railing  a  lawn  smooth  as  velvet,  and  behind  the 
house  a  little  wood  full  of  shady  nooks,  in  whose 
verdant  moss  the  footsteps  impressed  to-day  would 
disappear  by  the  morrow. 

Climbing  and  flowering  plants  covered  the  porch, 
and  mounted  to  the  upper  windows  of  this  lovely 
cottage. 

From  continued  gazing  upon  this  cottage,  I  began 
to  regard  it  as  mine,  so  exactly  did  it  adapt  itself  to 
the  dream  that  I  had  been  indulging.  I  seemed  to  see 
Marguerite  and  myself,  during  the  day,  in  the  wood 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     157 

vvhicli  covered  the  slope  ;  at  night  seated  upon  the 
velvet  turf  of  the  lawn  ;  and  I  asked  myself  if  human 
beings  had  ever  been  happier  than  we  could  be  thus. 

"  What  a  sweet  cottage  !  "  said  Marguerite,  who 
had  followed  the  direction  of  my  eyes,  and  perhaps 
of  my  thoughts  also, 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  Prudence. 

"  Over  yonder  "  ;  and  Marguerite  pointed  to  the 
house  in  question. 

"  Oh  !  lovely  !  "  exclaimed  Prudence.  "  It  pleases 
you  !  " 

"  Very  much." 

"  Well,  then,  tell  the  Duke  to  hire  if  for  you.  He 
will  do  it,  I  am  certain.  I  will  undertake  to  bring  it 
about,  if  you  choose." 

Marguerite  looked  at  me,  as  if  to  see  my  opinion 
of  this  new  suggestion. 

My  dream  had  vanished  so  abruptly  with  the  last 
words  of  Prudence,  and  had  precipitated  me  so  rudely 
into  the  region  of  reality,  that  I  was  still  half  stunned 
with  the  fall. 

"  Really,  it  is  an  excellent  idea,"  I  stammered 
out,  without  well  knowing  what  I  said. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  manage  it  all,"  said  Marguerite, 
pressing  my  hand,  and  interpreting  my  words 
according  to  her  own  wishes.  "  We  will  go  at  once 
and  see  if  it  is  to  be  let." 

The  house  was  vacant,  and  to  let  for  2,000  francs 
per  annum. 

"  Shall  you  be  happy  here  ?  "  asked  Marguerite. 

"  Am  I  sure  of  coming  here  ?  " 

"  And  for  whom  should  I  bury  myself  here,  if  not 
for  you  ?  " 

"  Then  let  me  hire  this  house  for  you  myself." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  Not  only  is  that  needless,  but  it 
would  be  dangerous.  You  know  tha.t  I  have  the 
right  to  accept  such  favours  from  only  one  man. 


158     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Leave  me  to  manage  it,  therefore,  you  great  child 
and  say  nothing." 

"  The  result  will  be,"  said  Prudence,  "  that  when 
I  have  two  days  that  I  can  call  my  own,  I  shall  come 
and  pass  them  with  you." 

We  quitted  the  house,  and  took  the  road  to  Paris, 
while  discussing  this  new  plan.  I  held  Marguerite  in 
my  arms,  and  the  consequence  was  that  by  the  time 
we  descended  from  the  carriage,  I  had  begun  to  look 
upon  the  scheme  in  a  much  less  scrupulous  spirit  than 
I  did  at  first. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

The  next  day,  Marguerite  dismissed  me  very  early, 
saying  that  the  Duke  was  to  come  soon,  and  pro- 
mising to  write  to  me  as  soon  as  he  hBd  gone,  to 
give  me  the  usual  rendezvous  for  the  evening. 

In  fact,  during  the  day,  I  received  this  message  : 

"  I  am  going  to  Bougival  with  the  Duke  ;  be  with 
Prudence  this  evening  at  eight  o'clock." 

At  the  hour  indicated  Marguerite  had  returned, 
and  came  to  join  me  at  Madame  Duvernoy's. 

"  Well,  all  is  arranged,"  said  she  as  she  entered. 

"  Is  the  house  hired  ?  "  asked  Prudence. 

"  Yes,  he  consented  directly." 

I  did  not  know  the  Duke,  but  I  was  ashamed  to 
deceive  him  as  I  was  doing. 

"  But  that  is  not  all,"  continued  Marguerite. 

"  What  more  then  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  thinking  about  a  lodging  for 
Armand." 

"  In  the  same  house  ?  "  asked  Prudence,  laughing. 

"  No,  but  at  '  The  Break  of  Day,'  where  the  Duke 
and  I  breakfasted.  Whilst  he  contemplated  the 
view,  I  asked  Madame  Arnold  (for  it  is  Madame 
Arnold  that  she  calls  herself,  is  it  not  ?  )  I  asked 
her  if  she  had  an  apartment  suitable.  She  had  one, 
with  sitting-room,  anteroom,  and  bedroom.  That 
is  all  that  is  necessary,  I  believe.  Sixty  francs  a 
month.  The  whole  furnished  in  a  fashion  to  amuse 
a  hypochondriac.  I  took  this  lodging — have  I  done 
right  ?  " 

159 


i6o     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  embraced  her  by  way  of  reply. 

"  That  will  be  charming,"  she  continued  ;  "  you 
will  have  a  key  of  the  little  door,  and  I  have  pro- 
mised the  Duke  a  key  of  the  gate,  which  he  will  not 
take,  since  when  he  does  come  he  will  only  come 
in  the  day  time.  I  believe,  between  ourselves,  he 
is  enchanted  with  this  caprice,  which  takes  me  from 
Paris  for  a  time,  and  will  cause  his  family  to  be  silent. 
However,  he  asked  me  how  I,  who  love  Paris  so 
much,  could  decide  upon  burying  myself  in  the 
country.  I  replied  that  I  was  not  well,  and  that  it 
was  to  rest  myself.  He  seemed  to  believe  me,  but 
not  completely.  This  poor  old  man  is  always  kept 
at  bay.  We  will  therefore  take  many  precautions, 
my  dear  Armand,  for  he  will  cause  me  to  be  watched 
down  yonder  ;  and  it  is  not  enough  that  he  hires 
ne  a  house,  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  also  pay 
my  debts,  of  which,  unfortunately,  I  have  plenty. 
Does  that  suit  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  striving  to  silence  all  the  scruples 
which  this  mode  of  life  roused  from  time  to  time 
within  me. 

"  We  examined  the  house  in  all  its  details  ;  it  will 
suit  us  to  a  nicety.  The  Duke  looked  into  everything. 
Ah,  my  dear,"  added  the  mad  girl  embracing  me, 
"  you  are  not  unlucky ;  it  is  a  millionaire  who 
provides  for  you." 

"  And  when  do  you  move  in  ?  "  asked  Prudence. 

"  As  soon  as  possible." 

"  Do  you  take  your  carriage  and  horses  ?  " 

"  I  shall  take  my  whole  household.  You  will 
take  charge  of  my  apartment  during  my  absence." 

Eight  days  after,  Marguerite  had  taken  possession 
of  the  country  house,  and  I  was  installed  at  "  The 
Break  of  Day." 

Then  commenced  an  existence  which  I  should 
find  the  greatest  difficulty  in  describing  to  you. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     i6i 

At  the  commencement  of  her  sojourn  at  Bougival, 
Marguerite  could  not  break  off  altogether  with  her  old 
habits,  and  as  she  always  kept  open  house  all  her 
female  friends  came  to  see  her.  During  one  month, 
not  a  day  passed  that  Marguerite  had  not  eight  or 
ten  people  at  her  table.  Prudence,  on  her  side, 
brought  thither  all  the  people  she  knew,  and  did  them 
the  honours  of  the  house,  just  as  if  it  had  belonged 
to  her. 

The  Duke's  money  paid  for  all  this,  as  you  may 
well  believe  ;  nevertheless  it  happened  occasionally 
that  Prudence  came  to  ask  me  for  a  note  of  i,ooo 
francs,  professedly  in  the  name  of  Marguerite.  You 
know  that  I  had  gained  considerably  at  play  ;  I  was 
eager,  therefore,  to  give  to  Prudence  what  Marguerite 
asked  through  her,  and  for  fear  that  she  might  want 
more  than  I  had,  I  borrowed  in  Paris  a  sum  equal 
to  that  which  I  had  already  previously  borrowed 
and  which  I  had  punctually  repaid. 

I  thus  found  myself  again  the  possessor  of  a  sum 
of  10,000  francs,  without  counting  my  annuity. 

However,  the  pleasure  which  Marguerite  experi- 
enced in  receiving  her  friends  relaxed  somewhat  in 
view  of  the  expense  to  which  this  pleasure  dragged 
her  on,  and,  above  all,  on  account  of  the  necessity 
in  which  she  was  placed  of  occasionally  asking  money 
of  me.  The  Duke,  who  had  hired  this  house  for 
Marguerite,  that  she  might  repose  herself,  discon- 
tinued his  visits,  as  he  was  in  fear  of  meeting  a  joyous 
and  numerous  company,  by  whom  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  seen.  This  was  caused  especially  by  the  fact  that, 
coming  one  day  to  dine  alone  with  Marguerite,  he 
had  stumbled  into  the  midst  of  a  party  of  fifteen 
persons,  who  had  not  done  breakfasting  at  the  hour 
when  he  expected  to  sit  down  to  dinner.  Suspecting 
nothing,  he  had  opened  the  door  of  the  dining-room, 
when  a  universal  laugh  greeted  his  entrance,  and 


i62     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

he  was  forced  to  retire  suddenly  before  the  impertin- 
ent gaiety  of  the  girls  who  were  present. 

Marguerite  rose  from  the  table,  and  found  the 
Duke  in  the  adjoining  room,  when  she  endeavoured  as 
much  as  possible  to  make  him  forget  this  adventure  ; 
but  the  old  man,  wounded  in  his  self-love,  could  not 
overcome  his  anger  ;  he  said  cruelly  enough  to  the 
poor  girl  that  he  was  tired  of  paying  for  the  follies 
of  a  woman,  who  did  not  even  know  how  to  make 
him  respected  at  her  house,  and  he  went  away 
greatly  displeased. 

From  that  day  we  had  not  heard  him  spoken  of. 
Marguerite  had  been  obliged  to  dismiss  her  guests, 
to  change  her  habits,  and  the  Duke  had  given  no 
news  of  himself.  I  had  gained  the  knowledge  that  my 
mistress  more  completely  belonged  to  me,  and  that 
my  dream  was  at  length  being  realised.  Marguerite 
could  no  longer  do  without  me.  Without  disturbing 
herself  as  to  what  might  be  the  result  of  it,  she 
publicly  avowed  our  liaison,  and  it  had  come  to  my  re- 
siding in  her  house.  The  servants  called  me  Monsieur, 
and  looked  upon  me  officially  as  their  master. 

Prudence  remonstrated  with  Marguerite  respecting 
the  life  we  were  leading  ;  but  she  replied  that  she  so 
loved  me  that  she  could  not  live  without  me,  and 
that,  whatever  might  result  from  it,  she  would  not 
renounce  the  happiness  of  having  me  unceasingly 
near  to  her  ;  adding  that  all  those  whom  this  course 
did  not  please  were  free  to  leave  her. 

This  is  what  I  heard  one  day  when  Prudence  said 
to  Marguerite  that  she  had  something  very  important 
to  communicate  to  her,  and  when  I  listened  at  the 
door  of  the  room  in  which  they  had  closeted  them- 
selves, 

A  little  while  after  Prudence  returned  to  Bougival. 

I  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden  when  she  entered, 
and  she  did  not  see  me.    I  fancied  from  the  manner  in 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     163 

which  Marguerite  went  to  meet  her,  that  a  con- 
versation similar  to  that  which  I  had  overheard  was 
again  about  to  take  place,  and  I  wished  to  hear  it  like 
I  had  heard  the  other. 

The  two  women  shut  themselves  up  in  a  boudoir, 
and  I  placed  myself  so  as  to  listen. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Marguerite. 

"  Well !  I  have  seen  the  Duke." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  That  he  would  willingly  pardon  you  the  first 
scene,  but  that  he  had  learned  that  you  lived  openly 
with  M.  Armand  Duval,  and  this  he  would  not  pardon 
you.  '  Let  Marguerite  leave  this  young  man,'  he  said, 
'  and  as  I  used  to  do  I  will  give  her  all  that  she 
wishes  ;  if  not,  she  must  renounce  asking  me  for 
anything  whatever  ! '  " 

"  What  did  you  answer  ?  " 

"  That  I  would  communicate  his  decision  to  you, 
and  I  promised  him  that  I  would  make  you  hear 
reason.  Reflect,  my  dear  child,  on  the  position  which 
you  lose,  and  which  Armand  can  never  give  you  back 
again.  He  loves  you  with  all  his  soul,  but  his  fortune 
is  not  large  enough  to  supply  all  your  wants,  and 
he  must  leave  you  some  day,  when  it  will  be  too  late, 
and  the  Duke  will  do  nothing  for  you.  Do  you  wish 
me  to  speak  to  Armand  ?  " 

Marguerite  seemed  to  reflect,  for  she  did  not  answer. 
My  heart  beat  violently  whilst  awaiting  her  reply. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  I  will  not  leave  Armand,  and 
I  shall  not  hide  myself  in  order  to  live  with  him.  It 
is  perhaps  a  folly  ;  but  what  would  you  have  ? 
And  then,  he  has  got  accustomed  to  loving  me 
without  hindrance  ;  he  would  suffer  too  much  to 
be  obliged  to  leave  me,  if  it  were  only  an  hour  a  day. 
Moreover,  I  have  not  such  a  great  time  to  live  that  I 
need  make  myself  unhappy,  and  perform  the  wishes 
of  an  old  man,  the  sight  of  whom  merely  causes  me  to 


i64     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

grow  old.  Let  him  keep  his  money — I  do  not  want 
it!" 

"  But  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  at  all  I  " 

Prudence  was  doubtless  able  to  answer  something, 
but  I  entered  suddenly  and  threw  myself  at  Mar- 
guerite's feet,  covering  her  hands  with  the  tears 
which  the  joy  of  being  thus  loved  caused  me  to 
shed. 

"  My  life  is  yours,  Marguerite  ;  you  no  longer 
have  any  want  of  that  man — am  I  not  here  ?  Shall 
I  ever  abandon  you,  and  can  I  ever  repay  you  the 
happiness  which  you  give  to  me  ?  No  more  con- 
straint, my  Marguerite  ;  we  love  each  other,  what 
does  the  rest  matter  to  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  love  you,  my  Armand,"  she  murmured, 
enlacing  her  two  arms  around  my  neck  ;  "  I  love 
you,  as  I  did  not  believe  I  could  have  loved.  We  will 
be  happy,  we  will  live  tranquilly,  and  I  will  bid  an 
eternal  adieu  to  that  life  for  which  I  now  blush.  You 
will  never  reproach  me  with  the  past,  will  you  ?  " 

The  tears  veiled  my  voice.  I  could  not  answer 
otherwise  than  by  pressing  Marguerite  to  my  heart. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  turning  to  Prudence,  and  with 
a  voice  still  moved,  "  you  will  describe  this  scene 
to  the  Duke,  and  you  will  add  that  we  have  no  want 
of  him." 

From  that  day  there  was  no  further  question  of  the 
Duke.  Marguerite  was  no  longer  the  girl  I  had  known. 
She  avoided  all  those  habits  of  the'life  in  the  midst  of 
which  I  had  met  her,  and  which  might  have  ruined 
me.  Never  did  a  wife,  never  did  a  sister,  have  for 
her  husband  or  her  brother  the  affectionate  care 
which  she  had  for  me.  Her  morbid  temperament 
was  susceptible  to  every  impression,  accessible  to 
every  feeling.  She  had  broken  off  with  her  friends, 
as  well  as  with  her  habits  ;  with  her  language  as  well 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     165 

as  with  her  previous  expenses.  When  we  were  seen 
on  our  way  from  the  house  to  go  upon  the  water,  in  a 
charming  little  boat  that  I  had  bought,  one  would 
never  have  believed  that  that  woman — dressed  in  a 
white  dress,  covered  with  a  large  straw  bonnet,  and 
carrying  upon  her  arm  the  simple  silk  pelisse,  which 
was  to  protect  her  from  the  cool  air  of  the  water — 
was  that  Marguerite  Gautier,  who,  four  months 
before,  was  notorious  for  her  extrava.gance  and 
her  reckless  mode  of  life. 

Alas,  we  hastened  to  be  happy,  as  if  we  had  divined 
that  we  could  not  always  be  so. 

Two  months  passed  without  our  even  visiting 
Paris.  No  one  came  to  see  us,  excepting  Prudence 
and  this  Julie  Duprat,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  to 
you,  and  to  whom  was  afterwards  entrusted  the 
touching  recital  which  I  have  received. 

I  spent  entire  days  at  the  feet  of  my  mistress.  We 
opened  the  windows  which  looked  out  upon  the 
garden,  and  while  regarding  the  summer  display, 
itself  joyous  in  the  flowers  which  it  caused  to  open, 
under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  we  enjoyed  together  that 
true  life  which  neither  Marguerite  nor  I  had  under- 
stood till  then. 

This  girl  displayed  child-like  astonishment  at  the 
smallest  trifles.  There  were  days  when  she  would  run 
about  the  garden  like  a  girl  of  ten  years,  after  a  butter- 
fly or  a  ladybird.  This  courtesan,  who  had  expended 
in  bouquets  more  money  than  would  have  been 
necessary  to  support,  joyfully,  an  entire  family, 
would  sit  down  sometimes  upon  the  grass,  examining 
for  an  hour  at  a  time  the  simple  flower  the  name  of 
which  she  bore.^ 

It  was  during  this  period  that  she  so  often  read 
Manon  Lescaut,  I  surprised  her  many  times  making 
notes  in  this  book  ;  and  she  always  said  to  me  that, 

*  La  Marguerite — the  daisy. 


i66     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

when  a  woman  loves,  she  cannot  do  what  Manon 
had  done. 

The  Duke  wrote  to  her  two  or  three  times.  She 
recognised  the  hand,  and  gave  me  the  letters  without 
reading  them. 

Sometimes  the  tone  of  his  letters  caused  the  tears 
to  come  to  my  eyes. 

He  had  believed,  in  closing  his  purse  against 
Marguerite,  that  he  would  have  brought  her  back  to 
him  ;  but  when  he  had  seen  the  inutility  of  this 
method,  he  had  written,  asking  her  permission  to 
visit  her  as  before,  whatever  might  be  the  condi- 
tions under  which  such  visits  were  to  be  made. 

After  I  had  read  these  pressing  and  reiterated 
letters,  I  tore  them  up,  without  telling  Marguerite  what 
they  contained,  and  without  advising  her  to  see  the 
poor  old  man,  although  a  feeling  of  pity  for  his  grief 
inclined  me  to  do  so  ;  but  I  feared  that  she  might  see 
in  this  counsel  a  desire  to  cause  the  Duke  again  to 
undertake  the  expenses  of  the  house  ;  I  feared,  above 
all,  that  she  would  think  me  capable  of  disowning  the 
responsibility  of  her  life  throughout  all  the  conse- 
quences into  which  her  love  for  me  might  lead  me. 

It  resulted  from  this  that  the  Duke,  receiving  no 
answer,  ceased  to  write,  and  that  Marguerite  and  I 
continued  to  live  together  without  occupying  our- 
selves with  the  future. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

To  describe  our  new  life  in  detail  would  be  difficult, 
It  consisted  of  a  series  of  almost  childish  pleasures, 
charming  to  us,  but  unmeaning  to  others.  You  know 
what  it  is  to  love  ;  you  know  how  rapidly  each  day 
passes,  and  with  what  loving  indolence  one  allows 
to-day  to  lapse  into  to-morrow.  You  are  not  ignorant 
of  that  sweet  forgetfulness  of  all  things  else,  which 
is  caused  by  a  passionate,  mutual  and  confiding 
affection.  Every  being  except  the  beloved  seems 
superfluous  in  the  creation.  You  regret  having 
already  cast  away,  as  it  were,  portions  of  your  heart 
upon  other  women,  and  you  do  not  believe  it  possible 
that  you  can  ever  press  with  fondness  any  other  hand 
than  that  which  you  now  hold  between  your  own. 
The  mind  permits  neither  labour  nor  reflection — 
nothing,  in  fact,  that  might  disturb  the  one  thought 
which  is  constantly  cherished.  Each  day  the  lover 
discovers  in  his  mistress  a  new  charm — an  unknown 
attraction. 

Existence  becomes  only  the  realisation  of  one 
continuous  desire — the  soul  merely  the  vessel 
charged  to  keep  alive  the  sacred  flame  of  love. 

We  frequently  at  night  betook  ourselves  to  the 
little  wood  which  overlooked  our  retreat.  There  we 
could  listen  to  the  gentle  harmonies  of  the  evening, 
while  both  dreamt  of  the  approaching  hour  which  was 
to  lock  us  in  each  other's  arm,  till  the  morrow. 

At  other  times,  we  would  remain  in  bed  the  whole 
day,  without  allowing  even  the  sun  to  intrude  into 

i67 


i68     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

our  chamber.  The  curtains  were  hermetically  closed, 
and  the  outer  world  seemed  for  us  to  pause  a  moment 
in  its  progress.  Nanine  alone  had  the  right  to  open 
our  door,  and  that  only  in  order  to  bring  us  our  meals, 
which  we  took  without  rising  and  interrupting  them 
constantly  by  laughter  and  mirth.  To  this  would 
succeed  a  few  moments  of  sleep — for,  submerged  in 
our  love,  we  were  like  resolute  divers,  who  come  to 
the  surface  only  when  forced  to  do  so  in  order  to 
take  breath. 

Nevertheless,  I  observed  some  moments  of  sadness 
and  even  some  tears,  on  the  part  of  Marguerite  ; 
and  once,  when  I  asked  her  their  cause,  she 
replied  : 

"  Our  love  is  not  an  ordinary  passion,  dear  Armand. 
You  love  me  as  if  I  had  never  belonged  to  anyone 
else  ;  and  I  tremble  lest,  hereafter,  repenting  of  your 
love,  and  making  a  crime  of  my  past  life,  you  should 
force  me  to  throw  myself  into  that  existence  from  the 
midst  of  which  you  took  me.  Consider,  that  now  I 
have  tasted  the  delights  of  a  new  life,  I  should  die 
in  being  forced  to  resume  the  other.  Assure  me, 
then,  that  you  will  never  leave  me." 

"  I  swear  it  to  you  !  " 

At  these  words,  she  gazed  upon  me,  as  though  to 
read  in  my  eyes  if  my  oath  were  sincere  ;  then  she 
threw  herself  into  my  arms,  and,  hiding  herself  in  my 
bosom,  said  : 

"  But  you  do  not  know  how  much  I  love  you  !  " 

One  evening,  we  were  leaning  outside  the  balcony 
of  our  window.  We  gazed  upon  the  moon,  which 
seemed  to  struggle  with  difficulty  through  the  masses 
of  cloud  which  surrounded  it,  and  we  listened  to  the 
wind  rustling  the  trees  with  violence  ;  we  held  each 
other  by  the  hand,  and  for  perhaps  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  not  a  word  had  been  spoken,  when  Marguerite 
said  to  me : 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     i6g 

"  You  see  that  winter  is  coining.  Shall  we  leave 
this  place  ?  " 

"  And  go  whither  ?  " 

"  To  Italy." 

"  You  are  weary,  then  ?  " 

"  I  dread  the  winter — I  dread  your  return  to 
Paris." 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  For  many  reasons." 

And  she  added  abruptly,  without  giving  me  the 
grounds  of  her  fears  : 

"  Will  you  go  ?  I  will  sell  all  that  I  have — we  will 
live  there  upon  the  money  ;  nothing  will  remain  of 
what  I  have  been — no  one  will  know  who  I  am.  Do 
you  wish  it  ?  " 

"  Let  us  go,  if  you  desire  it.  Marguerite — ^let  us  take 
a  journey,"  said  I  ;  "  but  where  is  the  necessity  for 
selling  those  things,  which  you  will  be  glad  to  find 
again  on  your  return  ?  I  have  not  a  sufficient  fortune 
to  accept  any  great  sacrifice,  but  I  have  enough  to 
permit  us  to  travel  in  grand  style  for  five  or  six 
months,  if  it  will  afford  you  the  least  pleasure  to 
do  so." 

"  After  all — no  !  "  continued  she,  quitting  the 
window,  and  seating  herself  upon  the  sofa  in  the 
darkness  of  her  chamber  ;  "  why  spend  money  in 
travelling  ?    I  cost  you  quite  enough  here." 

"  You  reproach  me  with  it.  Marguerite.  That 
is  not  generous." 

"  Forgive  me,  my  friend,"  said  she,  offering  me  her 
hand  ;  "  this  stormy  weather  affects  my  nerves  ;  I 
say  what  I  do  not  mean  to  say." 

And  after  embracing  me,  she  fell  into  a  profound 
reverie. 

Such  scenes  were  of  frequent  occurrence  ;  and  if 
I  was  unaware  of  their  cause,  I  nevertheless  detected 
in  Marguerite  a  feeling  of  anxiety  about  the  future. 


170     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

She  could  not  doubt  my  love,  for  it  increased  every 
day  ;  and  yet  I  often  found  her  sad,  without  her  ever 
explaining  to  me  the  reason  of  her  sadness,  other  than 
by  attributing  it  to  some  physical  cause. 

Fearing  that  she  was  becoming  weary  of  a  life  so 
monotonous,  I  proposed  to  return  to  Paris  ;  but 
she  invariably  rejected  this  proposal,  and  assured 
me  that  she  would  be  nowhere  else  so  happy  as  she 
was  in  the  country. 

Prudence  came  but  rarely,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
she  constantly  wrote  letters,  which  I  had  never 
desired  to  see,  although  they  sometimes  threw  Mar- 
guerite into  fits  of  profound  abstraction.  I  could 
not  tell  what  to  imagine. 

One  day  Marguerite  remained  in  her  apartment.  I 
entered,  and  found  her  writing. 

"  To  whom  are  you  writing  ?  " 

"  To  Prudence.   Shall  I  read  to  you  what  I  write  ?  " 

I  had  a  horror  of  anything  which  could  appear 
like  suspicion,  and  I  replied,  therefore,  that  I  did 
not  wish  to  know  what  she  was  writing  ;  but  I  was 
nevertheless  persuaded  in  my  own  mind  that  this 
letter  would  have  told  me  the  cause  of  her  sadness. 

On  the  following  day  the  weather  was  superb. 
Marguerite  proposed  that  we  should  go  upon  the 
water,  and  visit  the  Isle  of  Croissy.  She  seemed  very 
gay.    It  was  five  o'clock  before  we  returned. 

"  Madame  Duvernoy  has  been,"  said  Nanine,  as 
soon  as  we  returned. 

"  Has  she  gone  again  ?  "  demanded  Marguerite. 

"Yes,  in  Madame's  carriage.  She  said  it  was  so 
arranged." 

"  That  will  do  I  "  said  Marguerite  briskly.  "  Let 
us  have  dinner." 

Two  days  afterwards,  a  letter  arrived  from  Pru- 
dence ;  and  for  a  fortnight  afterwards  Marguerite 
seemed  to  have  entirely  conquered  her  mysterious 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     171 

melancholy,  for  which  she  never  ceased  to  apologise, 
after  it  had  passed  away. 

But  the  carriage  did  not  return. 

"  How  is  it  that  Prudence  does  not  send  back  your 
brougham  ?  "  said  I,  one  day. 

"  One  of  the  horses  is  ill ;  and  besides,  the  carriage 
wants  some  repairs  ;  and  it  was  best  to  have  them 
done  while  we  are  here,  where  we  have  no  need  of  a 
carriage,  instead  of  waiting  until  we  return  to  Paris." 

Prudence  came  to  see  us  some  few  days  afterwards 
and  confirmed  what  Marguerite  had  said. 

The  two  women  walked  by  themselves  in  the 
garden,  and  when  I  joined  them  they  evidently 
changed  their  conversation. 

When  Prudence  went  away  in  the  evening,  she 
complained  of  the  cold,  and  asked  Marguerite  to  lend 
her  a  cashmere. 

Another  month  passed,  during  which  Marguerite 
was  more  gay  and  more  affectionate  than  ever. 

But  the  carriage  did  not  return — the  cashmere 
was  not  sent  back ;  and  this  puzzled  me,  in  spite 
of  myself  ;  and,  as  I  knew  the  drawer  in  which  Mar- 
guerite kept  the  letters  received  from  Prudence,  I 
took  advantage  of  a  moment  when  she  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  garden,  to  run  to  this  drawer  and 
endeavour  to  open  it — but  it  was  in  vain — the  drawer 
was  securely  locked. 

I  then  examined  the  drawers  in  which  Marguerite 
ordinarily  kept  her  diamonds  and  other  jewellery. 
Those  opened  without  difficulty ;  but  the  jewel-cases 
had  disappeared,  and  with  them  their  contents,  of 
course. 

A  distressing  apprehension  seized  me. 

I  was  about  to  ask  Marguerite  the  truth  of  all  this, 
but  I  felt  certain  that  she  would  not  avow  it  to  me. 

"  My  dear  Marguerite,"  said  I,  "I  come  to  ask 
your  permission  to  go  to  Paris.    My  family  do  not 


172     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

know  where  I  am,  and  there  will  be  letters  from  my 
father  awaiting  me.  He  will  be  uneasy,  no  doubt, 
and  I  must  answer  them." 

"  Go,  my  friend,  but  return  in  good  time." 

I  went. 

I  hastened  to  Prudence. 

"  Come,"  said  I,  without  other  preliminary, 
"  answer  me  frankly :  where  are  Marguerite's 
horses  ?  " 

"  Sold." 

"  The  cashmere  ?  " 

"  Sold." 

"  The  diamonds  ?  " 

"  Pledged." 

"  And  who  has  sold  and  pledged  all  these  ?  " 

"  Myself." 

"  And  why  did  you  not  inform  me  beforehand  ?  " 

"  Because  Marguerite  forbade  me." 

"  But  why  not  ask  me  for  money  ?  " 

"  Because  she  would  not  allow  it." 

"  And  what  has  become  of  all  the  money  ?  " 

"  Paid  away." 

"  She  owes  a  great  deal,  then  ?  " 

"  About  thirty  thousand  francs  still.  Ah  !  my 
dear  friend,  I  told  you  so !  You  would  not  believe 
m^e — now  you  are  convinced.  The  upholsterer 
whom  the  Duke  had  undertaken  to  pay  was  shown 
the  door  when  he  called  upon  him,  and  received  a 
letter  next  day  to  say  that  the  Duke  would  do  nothing 
for  Mademoiselle  Gautier.  This  man  would  have 
money  ;  he  has  had  some  sums  on  account,  which 
were  the  few  thousand  francs  I  have  had  from  you. 
Afterwards,  some  charitable  souls  informed  him  that 
Marguerite,  abandoned  by  the  Duke,  was  living  with 
a  young  man  with  no  fortune.  The  other  creditors 
v/ere  told  the  same  thing  ;  they  demanded  money, 
and  made  seizures.    Marguerite  wished  to  sell  every- 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     173 

thing,  but  there  was  no  longer  time,  and,  besides,  I 
opposed  it.  It  was,  however,  necessary  to  pay ;  and, 
to  avoid  asking  you  for  money,  she  sold  her  horses 
and  her  cashmeres,  and  pledged  her  jewels.  Would 
you  like  to  see  the  receipts  and  the  duplicates  ?  " 

And  Prudence,  opening  a  drawer,  showed  me  the 
papers  in  question. 

"  Ah  !  you  believe  me  now,"  said  she  with  the 
terrible  persistence  of  a  woman  where  she  happens 
to  be  right.  "  Ah  I  you  fancy  that  it  suffices  to  be  in 
love,  and  to  go  and  live  a  pastoral  life  in  the  country. 
No,  my  friend,  no  I  Side  by  side  with  the  ideal  comes 
the  material  life,  and  the  most  ethereal  resolutions 
are  bound  to  earth  by  ridiculously  fine  threads — 
but  they  are  of  iron,  and  not  easily  broken.  If 
Marguerite  has  not  played  you  false  twenty  times, 
it  is  that  she  is  of  a  nature  altogether  exceptional. 
I  do  not  blame  myself  for  having  counselled  her  to 
act  otherwise  than  she  has  done,  for  it  pained 
me  to  see  the  poor  girl  strip  herself  of  everything. 
But  she  would  not  hear  of  it.  She  replied  that  she 
loved  you,  and  would  not  be  false  to  you  for  any- 
thing in  the  world.  All  this  is  very  pretty,  and  very 
poetical ;  but  it  is  not  with  such  money  that  one 
pays  one's  creditors,  and  now  she  can  go  no  further 
— at  least,  I  repeat,  unless  she  has  30,000  francs." 

"  Very  well  ;   I  will  give  you  that  sum." 

"  You  are  about  to  borrow  it  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  You  are  about  to  do  a  nice  thing !  Embroil  your- 
self with  your  father,  and  encumber  your  resources  ; 
not  to  mention  that  one  does  not  thus  find  30,000 
francs  between  to-day  and  to-morrow.  Believe 
me,  my  dear  Armand,  I  know  women  better  than 
you  do  ;  do  not  commit  this  folly,  which  you  will 
one  day  bitterly  repent.  Be  reasonable.  I  do  not 
tell  you  to  leave  Marguerite,  but  live  with  her  as  you 


174     I^HE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

did  at  the  beginning  of  the  summer.  Let  her  find 
means  to  escape  from  the  embarrassment.    Her  Duke 

will  return  to  her  by  degrees.    The  Count  de  N , 

if  she  accepts  him  (he  told  me  so  again  only  j^esterday), 
will  pay  all  her  debts,  and  give  her  5,000  or  6,000 
francs  a  month.  He  has  an  income  of  200,000  francs. 
That  would  be  a  position  for  her  ;  while,  as  to  you, 
it  will  certainly  be  still  necessary  that  you  should 
leave  her  ;  and  you  should  not  wait  until  you  are 
ruined  before  doing  so.     Besides  which,  the  Count 

de  N is  a  fool ;    and  there  will  be  nothing  to 

prevent  you  from  still  being  Marguerite's  lover.  She 
will  no  doubt  weep  sadly  at  the  outset  ;  but  she  will 
finish  by  becoming  habituated  to  it,  and  will  thank 
you  one  day  for  what  you  will  have  done.  You  have 
only  to  imagine  that  Marguerite  is  married,  and  that 
you  deceive  the  husband — that  is  all. 

"  I  have  told  you  this  before  ;  but  then  it  was  a 
piece  of  advice,  now  it  is  almost  a  necessity." 

Prudence  was  terribly  near  the  truth. 

"  See  how  it  is,"  said  she,  putting  away  the  papers 
which  she  had  shown  me,  "  women  like  us  always 
foresee  that  they  will  be  loved,  never  that  they  will 
love  ;  or,  otherwise,  they  would  lay  up  money,  and 
at  thirty  years  of  age  could  afford  the  luxury  of  having 
a  lover  for  nothing.  Oh  !  if  I  had  known  once  what  I 
know  now  ! 

"  Finally,  say  nothing  to  Marguerite,  but  bring 
her  to  Paris.  You  have  enjoyed  five  or  six  months 
alone  with  her — ^that  should  satisfy  you.  Shut  your 
eyes — that  is  all  that  is  asked  of  you.    At  the  end 

of  a  fortnight  she  will  take  the  Count  de  N ;  she 

will  economise  this  winter,  and  next  summer  you  can 
begin  again.  See  how  these  things  are  managed,  my 
dear  fellow  !  " 

And  Prudence  seemed  quite  enchanted  with  the 
wisdom  of  her  advice,  which  I  indignantly  rejected. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     175 

Neither  my  love  nor  my  dignity  would  permit  me 
to  adopt  such  a  course  ;  but  I  was  also  well  convinced 
that,  at  the  point  at  which  Marguerite  had  arrived, 
she  would  sooner  die  than  consent  to  this  partition 
of  herself. 

"  That  is  enough  in  the  way  of  jesting  ;  how  much 
does  Marguerite  really  need  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  you — 30,000  francs." 

"  And  when  must  this  sum  be  paid  ?  " 

"  Within  two  months." 

"  She  shall  have  it." 

Prudence  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  I  will  furnish  it  to  you,  but  you  must  swear 
to  me  that  you  will  not  tell  Marguerite  that  it  is  I 
who  have  supplied  it." 

"  Make  yourself  easy." 

"  And  if  she  sends  you  anything  to  sell  or  pledge, 
inform  me." 

"  There  is  no  danger.    She  has  nothing  left." 

I  left  Prudence,  and  went  to  my  own  apartment 
to  see  if  there  were  any  letters  from  my  father.  There 
were  four. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

In  the  first  three  letters  my  father  expressed  uneasi- 
ness at  my  silence,  and  inquired  its  cause.  In  the 
last  he  allowed  me  to  see  that  he  had  been  informed 
of  my  altered  mode  of  life,  and  announced  his  immedi- 
ate visit  to  Paris. 

I  have  always  had  a  great  respect  and  a  sincere 
affection  for  my  father.  I  replied  to  him,  therefore, 
that  a  little  excursion  had  been  the  cause  of  my 
silence,  and  I  begged  him  to  acquaint  me  with  the 
day  of  his  intended  arrival,  that  I  might  arrange 
to  meet  him. 

I  gave  my  servant  my  address  in  the  country, 
desiring  him  to  bring  me  the  first  letter  that  should 
come  with  the  post-mark  of  my  native  town,  and 
started  immediately  for  Bougival. 

I  found  Marguerite  waiting  for  me  at  the  garden 
gate ;  her  countenance  betrayed  anxiety.  She 
threw  her  arms  round  my  neck,  and  could  not  for- 
bear saying : 

"  Have  you  seen  Prudence  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  You  have  been  a  long  time  in  Paris." 

"  I  found  letters  from  my  father,  which  it  was 
necessary  to  answer." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  Nanine  entered,  quite 
out  of  breath.  Marguerite  rose,  and  went  to  speak 
with  her  aside. 

When  Nanine  was  gone,  Marguerite  seated  herself 
again  beside  me,  and,  taking  my  hand,  said  : 
176 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELTAS     177 

"  Why  did  you  deceive  me  ?  You  have  seen 
Prudence." 

"  Who  has  told  you  so  ?  " 

"  Nanine." 

"  And  how  does  she  know  it  ?  " 

"  She  followed  you." 

"  You  must,  then,  have  told  her  to  follow  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  true.  I  thought  that  there  must  be  some 
powerful  motive  to  induce  you  to  start  thus  abruptly 
for  Paris — you  have  never  quitted  me  once  in  four 
months.  I  feared  that  some  misfortune  had  happened 
to  you  ;  or  that,  perhaps  you  went  to  see  some  other 
woman." 

"  Child  !  " 

"  I  am  reassured  at  present.  At  least,  I  know 
what  you  have  done  ;  but  I  do  not  know  what  you 
have  been  told." 

I  showed  Marguerite  the  letters  from  my  father. 

"  It  is  not  that  which  I  ask  about,"  said  she. 
"  I  wish  to  know  for  what  reason  you  called  upon 
Prudence." 

"  To  see  her." 

"  You  tell  an  untruth,  my  friend." 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  will  know,  I  went  to  ask  her 
if  the  horse  was  recovering,  and  if  she  had  any  further 
occasion  for  your  cashmeres  and  jewels." 

Marguerite  changed  colour,  but  made  no  reply. 

"And  I  have  learned,"  continued  I,  "the  use  you 
have  made  of  horses,  cashmeres,  and  diamonds." 

"  And  you  are  displeased  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  displeased  that  you  did  not  think  of  asking 
me  for  what  you  needed." 

"  In  a  connection  like  ours,"  replied  Marguerite, 
"  if  the  woman  has  still  a  little  self-respect,  she  will 
submit  to  every  imaginable  sacrifice  rather  than 
ask  money  from  her  lover,  and  give  a  mercenary 
aspect  to  her  love.  You  love  me,  I  am  sure ;  but  you  do 


178     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

not  know  how  fragile  is  the  tie  that  binds  the  heart 
to  the  affection  entertained  for  girls  like  me.  Who 
knows  but  that  on  some  occasion  of  annoyance  you 
might  imagine  that  you  could  see  in  our  connection 
nothing  but  an  artfully  arranged  plan  on  my  part  ? 
Prudence  is  a  tattler.  What  need  had  I  of  the  horses  ? 
I  have  effected  a  saving  in  disposing  of  them.  I  can 
do  very  well  v/ithout  them,  and  shall  spend  no  more 
on  their  account.  So  long  as  you  love  me,  it  is  all 
that  I  desire ;  and  you  will  love  me  as  much 
without  the  horses,  cashmeres,  and  diamonds  as  with 
them." 

All  this  was  said  so  unaffectedly  that  the  tears 
sprang  to  my  eyes  as  I  listened. 

"  But  my  good  Marguerite,"  replied  I,  as  I  ten- 
derly pressed  her  hands  between  my  own,  "  j^ou  well 
knew  that  one  day  I  should  become  acquainted  with 
this  sacrifice,  and  that,  on  the  day  when  I  learnt  it, 
I  should  refuse  to  suffer  it." 

"  But  why  ?  " 

"  Because,  my  dear  girl,  I  do  not  intend  that  the 
affection  which  you  are  good  enough  to  feel  for  me 
shall  deprive  you  of  even  one  single  trinket.  Nor  am 
I  \villing,  on  my  part,  that  in  a  moment  of  vexation 
or  weariness  you  should  be  able  to  consider  that  if  you 
had  lived  with  some  one  else,  such  a  '  moment ' 
would  not  have  existed,  and  that  you  should  repent, 
were  it  but  for  a  single  instant,  living  with  me.  In  a 
few  days,  your  horses,  your  jewels,  and  your  cashmeres 
will  be  restored  to  you.  They  are  as  necessary  to 
you  as  the  air  you  breathe  ;  and,  although  it  is 
perhaps  ridiculous,  I  love  you  better  sumptuous 
than  simple." 

"  Then  you  love  me  no  longer." 

"  Foolish  one  !  " 

"  No  !  for  if  you  loved  me,  you  would  leave  me  to 
love  you  also  in  my  own  manner  ;  but,  on  the  con- 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     179 

trary,  you  continue  to  see  in  me  only  a  girl  to  whom 
luxury  is  indispensable,  and  whom  you  feel  yourself 
constantly  forced  to  pay.  You  are  too  proud  to 
accept  any  proofs  of  my  love.  In  spite  of  yourself,  you 
think  of  the  possibility  of  leaving  me  one  day,  and 
you  insist  upon  keeping  your  delicacy  beyond  the 
reach  of  all  suspicion.  You  are  right,  my  friend  ; 
but  I  had  hoped  for  something  better." 

And  ]\Iarguerite  made  a  movement  to  leave  me, 
but  I  detained  her,  saying  : 

"  I  v/ish  that  you  should  be  happy,  and  that  you 
should  have  nothing  wherewith  to  reproach  me. 
That  is  all." 

"  And  we  are  about  to  part  !  " 

"  And  why  ?    Who  can  separate  us  ?  "  cried  I. 

"  Yourself,  who  will  not  permit  that  I  should  under- 
stand your  position,  while  you  wish  to  gratify  your 
pride  by  preserving  mine  to  me — you  who,  in  main- 
taining the  luxury  in  which  I  have  lived,  wish  to  pre- 
serve the  moral  distance  which  separates  us — you,  in 
short,  who  do  not  believe  sufficiently  in  the  disinter- 
estedness of  my  affection  to  share  with  me  the  fortune 
which  you  possess,  and  with  which  we  could  live 
happily,  but  prefer  to  ruin  yourself,  in  abject  sub- 
mission to  an  absurd  prejudice.  Do  you  suppose, 
then,  that  I  put  a  carriage  or  trinkets  in  comparison 
with  your  love  ?  Do  you  imagine  that  my  happiness 
consists  in  the  vanities  with  which  we  occupy  our- 
selves when  we  love  nothing,  but  which  become 
valueless  when  one  really  does  love  ?  Y''ou  will  pay 
my  debts,  you  will  absorb  your  fortune  ;  you  will, 
in  fact,  keep  me — support  me  !  How  long  will  all 
this  last  ?  Two  or  three  months  ;  and  then  it  will 
be  too  late  to  adopt  the  life  which  I  propose  to  you, 
for  then  you  would  have  to  accept  everjrthing  from 
me,  which  is  what  a  man  of  honour  cannot  do. 
Whereas,  at  present,  you  have  eight  or  ten  thousand 


i8o     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

francs  of  income,  with  which  we  can  live.  I  will 
sell  what  I  have  that  is  superfluous,  and  from  this 
sale  alone  I  can  realise  two  thousand  francs  a  year. 
We  will  have  a  pretty  little  suite  of  apartments,  in 
which  we  can  both  live.  In  the  summer  we  will  come 
to  the  country  ;  not  into  a  house  like  this,  but  a 
little  cottage  suitable  for  two  persons.  You  are 
independent  ;  I  am  free  ;  we  are  both  young.  In 
Heaven's  name,  Armand,  do  not  throw  me  back  into 
the  life  which  I  was  formerly  forced  to  lead  !  " 

I  could  make  no  reply.  Tears  of  love  and  admira- 
tion filled  my  eyes,  and  I  could  only  throw  myself 
into  Marguerite's  arms. 

"  I  wished,"  resumed  she,  "  to  arrange  it  all, 
without  saying  anything  to  you  ;  pay  all  my  debts, 
and  prepare  my  new  apartment.  In  October  we 
shall  have  returned  to  Paris,  and  all  will  be  over  ; 
but  since  Prudence  has  told  you  everything,  you 
must  consent  beforehand,  instead  of  afterwards.  Do 
you  love  me  sufficiently  for  that  ?  " 

It  was  impossible  to  resist  so  much  self-devotion. 
I  embraced  Marguerite  tenderly,  and  replied  : 

"  I  will  do  whatever  you  wish." 

What  she  had  planned  was  therefore  agreed  upon. 
She  then  became  quite  wild  with  delight.  She 
danced,  she  sang,  she  talked  of  nothing  but  the  new 
apartment  which  we  were  to  have — as  to  the  locality 
and  arrangements  of  which  she  already  began  to  con- 
sult me. 

I  saw  that  she  was  proud  and  happy  in  this  new 
resolution,  which  seemed  to  unite  us  definitely  one 
to  another.  I  was  unwilling,  therefore,  to  be  behind- 
hand. 

In  a  moment  I  had  decided  upon  my  whole  course 
of  life.  I  determined  to  abandon  permanently  to 
Marguerite  the  income  which  I  derived  from  my 
mother,  which  seemed  to  me  only  too  completely 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     i8i 

insufficient  to  recompense  the  sacrifice  which  I 
accepted. 

There  would  remain  to  me  the  5,000  francs  per 
annum  allowed  me  by  my  father,  and  come  what 
might  I  should  always,  by  means  of  this  allowance, 
have  enough  to  live  upon. 

I  did  not  tell  Marguerite  what  I  had  resolved  upon, 
for  I  was  convinced  that  she  would  refuse  this 
gift. 

The  income  first-named  was  derived  from  a 
mortgage  of  60,000  francs,  upon  a  house  which  I  had 
never  even  seen.  All  that  I  knew  was,  that  on  each 
quarter  day  my  father's  notary  (an  old  friend 
of  our  family)  paid  me  750  francs  upon  my  simple 
receipt. 

On  the  day  when  Marguerite  and  I  came  to  Paris 
to  look  for  apartments,  I  went  to  the  notary,  and 
asked  him  in  what  way  I  ought  to  proceed  to  transfer 
the  income  to  another  person. 

The  worthy  man  supposed  me  to  be  ruined  and 
questioned  me  as  to  the  cause  of  my  intended  pro- 
ceedings ;  and  as  it  would  have  been  necessary, 
sooner  or  later,  to  tell  him  in  whose  favour  I  wished 
this  transfer,  I  preferred  to  tell  him  the  whole  affair 
on  the  spot. 

To  my  surprise  he  made  none  of  those  objections 
which  his  business  as  a  notary  and  as  friend  might 
have  authorised,  but  he  assured  me  that  he  would 
arrange  it  all  in  the  best  manner. 

I,  of  course,  enjoined  upon  him  the  strictest 
secrecy  towards  my  father,  and  proceeded  to  meet 
Marguerite,  who  awaited  me  at  the  apartments  of 
Julie  Duprat,  where  she  preferred  stopping,  to  going 
and  listening  to  a  lecture  from  Prudence. 

We  commenced  our  search  for  apartments.  All 
that  we  saw  Marguerite  considered  too  dear,  while 
I  thought  them  too   common.      Nevertheless,   we 


i82     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

finished  by  agreeing  upon  a  place,  and  fixed  upon  a 
little  pavilion,  isolated  from  the  adjoining  house, 
in  one  of  the  quietest  quarters  of  Paris.  Behind 
this  little  pavilion  extended  a  beautiful  garden, 
enclosed  by  walls  sufficiently  high  to  separate  us  from 
our  neighbours,  and  low  enough  not  to  restrict  the 
view. 

It  was  better  than  we  had  ventured  to  hope.  While 
I  went  to  my  own  apartment  to  give  notice  of  my 
intention  to  leave,  Marguerite  hastened  to  a  man  of 
business,  who,  she  said,  had  accomplished  for  one  of 
her  friends  that  which  she  was  about  to  ask  him  to 
undertake  for  herself. 

She  returned  to  seek  me  in  the  Rue  de  Provence, 
quite  enchanted.  This  man  had  engaged  to  pay  all 
her  debts,  to  give  her  a  full  quittance  for  them,  and 
to  hand  her  20,000  francs,  in  return  for  the  remainder 
of  her  all  furniture,  etc. 

You  will  have  seen  by  the  sum  which  the  sale 
realised,  that  this  man  would  have  gained  more  than 
30,000  francs  by  his  bargain  ! 

We  returned  joyously  to  Bougival,  continuing  to 
discuss  our  future  prospects  ;  which,  thanks  to  our 
want  of  experience,  and  especially  to  our  love, 
we  beheld  under  the  most  glowing  colours. 

A  week  afterwards  we  were  at  breakfast  when 
Nanine  told  me  that  my  servant  was  asldng  for  me. 
He  was  shown  in. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  he,  "  your  father  has  arrived  in 
Paris,  and  begs  you  to  come  at  once  to  your  apart- 
ments, where  he  awaits  you." 

This  news  was  the  simplest  in  the  world,  yet,  never- 
theless, on  hearing  it  Marguerite  and  I  gazed  upon 
each  other  as  if  we  presaged  some  misfortune  in  the 
incident.  And  although  she  said  nothing  to  me  in 
reference  to  the  presentiment  which  I  shared  with 
her,  I  said,  as  I  took  her  hand  : 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     183 

*'  Fear  nothing  !  " 

"  Return  as  speedily  as  possible,"  murmured  Mar- 
guerite, as  she  embraced  me  ;  "I  shall  watch  for 
you  at  the  window." 

I  sent  Joseph  to  tell  my  father  that  I  was  coming. 
Two  hours  afterwards  I  was  in  the  Rue  de  Provence. 


CHAPTER  XX 

My  father,  in  his  dressing-gown,  was  seated  at  a 
table  in  my  sitting-room  writing. 

I  perceived  directly,  from  the  manner  in  which  he 
raised  his  eyes  as  I  entered,  that  serious  matters 
were  about  to  be  brought  forward. 

I  approached  him,  however,  as  if  I  had  divined 
nothing  of  the  kind,  and  embraced  him  as  usual. 

"  When  did  you  arrive,  father  ?  " 

"  Last  evening." 

"  You  came  directly  here,  as  usual  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  much  regret  not  having  been  here  to  receive 
you." 

I  expected,  in  reply,  to  receive  the  lecture  or  rebuke 
which  my  father's  countenance  had  seemed  to 
promise  ;  but  he  made  no  reply,  sealed  the  letter 
which  he  was  writing,  and  gave  it  to  Joseph  to  take 
to  the  post. 

When  we  were  alone,  my  father  rose,  and,  leaning 
upon  the  chimney-piece,  said  : 

"  We  have  some  serious  matters  to  discuss,  my 
dear  Armand." 

"  I  am  listening  to  you,  father." 

"  You  promise  to  be  frank  ?  " 

"  It  is  my  custom." 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  are  living  with  a  woman 
named  Marguerite  Gautier  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     185 

"  You  know  what  this  woman  is  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  It  is  for  her  that  you  have  neglected,  this  year, 
to  come  and  see  your  sister  and  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father,  I  confess  it." 

"  You  love  this  woman  very  much  then  ?  " 

"  You  see  that  it  must  be  so  since  she  has  been 
the  cause  of  my  neglecting  a  sacred  duty — for  which 
neglect  I  humbly  ask  your  pardon." 

My  father  had  evidently  not  expected  to  receive 
replies  quite  so  explicit,  for  he  seemed  to  reflect  for 
a  moment,  and  then  added  : 

"  You  have  evidently  understood  that  you  could 
not  always  live  thus  ?  " 

"  I  have  feared  it,  but  I  cannot  say  that  I  have 
fully  realised  it." 

"  But  you  must  have  understood,"  continued  my 
father  in  a  somewhat  sterner  tone,  "  that  I  should 
not  permit  it." 

"  I  have  considered  that,  so  long  as  I  did  nothing 
contrary  to  the  respect  which  I  owe  to  your  name, 
and  to  the  traditionary  probity  of  the  family,  I 
could  live  as  I  now  live — which  has  somewhat  relieved 
the  fear  which  I  entertained." 

Passions  give  strength  as  well  as  sentiments.  I 
was  prepared  for  any  struggle — even  against  my 
father — ^to  preserve  Marguerite. 

"  The  moment  has  nevertheless  come  for  you  to 
live  in  a  different  manner." 

"  And  why,  father  ?  " 

"  Because  you  are  on  the  point  of  doing  things 
contrary  to  the  respect  which  you  profess  for  your 
family." 

"  I  do  not  understand  your  words." 

"  I  will  explain  them  to  you.  That  you  have  a 
mistress  may  be  very  well.  That  you  should  pay 
her,  as  a  gentleman  ought  to  pay  for  the  favours  of 


i86     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

such  a  woman,  is  also  very  proper ;  but  when  you 
neglect  things  the  most  sacred  for  her  sake — when 
you  permit  the  rumour  of  your  scandalous  life  to 
penetrate  even  to  the  provincial  district  where 
I  live,  and  cast  the  shadow  of  a  stain  upon  the 
honourable  name  which  I  have  given  you,  you 
attempt  that  which  cannot  be,  and  which  shall 
not  be." 

"  Permit  me  to  say  to  you,  father,  that  those  who 
have  made  such  statements  in  regard  to  me  were  ill- 
informed.  I  am  the  lover  of  Mademoiselle  Gautier  ; 
I  live  with  her  ;  it  is  simply  true.  But  I  do  not 
give  to  Mademoiselle  Gautier  the  name  I  have 
received  from  you  ;  I  spend  for  her  only  what  my 
means  allow  me  to  expend  ;  I  have  not  incurred  a 
single  debt — nor,  in  short,  placed  myself  in  any 
such  position  as  should  authorise  a  father  to  say 
to  his  son  what  you  have  just  now  said  to  me." 

"  A  father  is  always  authorised  to  turn  his  son 
aside  from  the  evil  ways  in  which  he  may  find  him 
walking  ;  you  have  not  yet  done  any  harm,  but 
you  are  about  to  do  it." 

"  Father  !  " 

"  Sir,  I  know  life  better  than  you  do.  There  are  no 
sentiments  entirely  pure,  except  with  women  entirely 
chaste.  Every  Manon  may  make  a  Desgrieux,  and 
times  and  manners  are  changed.  It  would  be  useless 
for  the  world  to  grow  older,  unless  it  improved.  You 
will  leave  your  mistress  ?  " 

"  I  regret  to  disobey  you,  my  father,  but  that  is 
impossible." 

"  I  will  compel  you  to  do  so." 

"  Unhappily,  father,  there  are  no  longer  any  Isles 
Saint-Marguerite,  where  they  send  courtesans  ;  and 
were  there  so,  I  should  follow  Mademoiselle  Gautier 
thither,  if  you  caused  her  to  be  sent  there.  What 
would  you  have  ?    I  am  wrong,  perhaps  ;  but  I  cannot 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     187 

be  happy,  except  upon  the  condition  that  I  remain 
the  lover  of  this  girl." 

"  Open  your  eyes,  Armand  ;  recognise  your  father, 
who  has  ever  loved  you,  and  who  desires  only  your 
happiness.  Is  it  honourable  for  you  to  live  like 
a  husband  with  a  girl  whom  all  the  world  has 
possessed  ?  " 

"  What  matter,  provided  no  one  possesses  her 
hereafter  ?  What  matter,  provided  this  girl  loves  me, 
if  she  is  regenerated  by  the  love  which  she  has  for 
me,  and  that  which  I  have  for  her  ?  " 

"  And  you  believe,  then,  that  the  mission  of  a  man 
of  honour  is  to  convert  courtesans  ?  What  will  be 
the  conclusion  of  this  marvellous  cure,  and  what  will 
you  think  of  what  you  now  say  when  you  are  forty 
years  old  ?  You  will  laugh  at  your  love,  if  it  is  per- 
mitted to  you  still  to  laugh  at  it — if  it  shall  not  have 
left  traces  too  profound  upon  your  life.  What  would 
you  be  at  this  moment  if  your  father  had  had  your 
ideas,  and  had  abandoned  himself  to  every  breath  of 
passion,  instead  of  taking  his  stand  firmly  upon  the 
basis  of  honour  and  good  faith  ?  Reflect,  Armand  ; 
and  tell  no  more  of  these  follies.  Come,  you  will 
leave  this  woman  ?    Your  father  entreats  you  !  " 

I  made  no  reply. 

"  Armand,"  continued  my  father,  "  in  the  name 
of  your  sainted  mother  listen  to  me  !  Renounce 
this  life,  which  you  will  forget  sooner  than  you  think, 
and  to  which  you  are  enchained  by  a  theory  utterly 
impracticable.  You  are  twenty-four  years  of  age — 
think  of  your  future.  You  cannot  always  continue 
to  love  thus  this  woman,  who,  on  the  other  hand,  will 
not  always  love  you.  You  both  exaggerate  your 
love.  You  shut  yourself  out  from  any  career  in  the 
future.  Another  step,  and  you  will  be  unable  to  quit 
the  path  you  now  pursue,  and  for  the  rest  of  your 
life  the  remorse  of  your  youth  will  haunt  you.    Go, 


i88     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

pass  a  month  or  two  with  your  sister.  Rest  and  the 
love  of  a  pious  family  will  soon  cure  you  of  the  fever, 
for  it  is  nothing  else.  In  the  meantime,  your  mistress 
will  console  herself  ;  she  will  take  another  lover,  and 
when  you  find  for  whom  you  have  nearly  quarrelled 
with  your  father,  and  lost  his  affection,  you 
will  tell  me  that  I  did  well  to  seek  you  out, 
and  you  will  bless  me.  You  will  go,  will  you  not, 
Armand  ?  " 

I  felt  that  my  father  was  right,  as  far  as  most 
women  are  concerned,  but  I  was  convinced  he  was 
wrong  as  to  Marguerite.  Still,  the  tone  in  which 
he  had  spoken  the  last  words  was  so  gentle,  so 
supplicating,  that  I  could  not  reply. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  emotion. 

"  Well,  my  father,  I  can  promise  you  nothing,"  I 
said  at  length  ;  "  what  you  ask  of  me  is  beyond  my 
strength.  Believe  me,"  I  continued,  on  seeing  him 
make  a  gesture  of  impatience,  "  you  exaggerate 
the  results  of  this  liaison.  Marguerite  is  not  the  girl 
you  think  her.  This  love,  far  from  leading  me  astray, 
is  capable,  on  the  contrary,  of  developing  in  me  the 
most  honourable  sentiments.  True  love  always 
makes  one  better,  whatever  may  be  the  woman  who 
inspires  it.  If  you  knew  Marguerite,  you  would 
admit  that  I  expose  myself  to  nothing.  She  is  noble 
as  the  noblest  of  women.  In  proportion  as  there  is 
cupidity  in  others  so  is  there  disinterestedness  in 
her." 

"  Which  does  not  prevent  her  accepting  your  whole 
fortune,  for  the  sixty  thousand  francs  which  belong 
to  you  from  your  mother,  and  which  you  give  her — 
remember  well  what  I  am  saying  to  you — is  your  only 
fortune." 

My  father  had  probably  kept  this  peroration  and 
this  heavy  threat  as  a  last  blow  for  me.  I  was 
stronger  before  his  threats  than  his  prayers. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     189 

"  Who  told  you  I  was  to  abandon  this  sum  to  her  ?  " 
I  resumed. 

"  My  lawyer.  Would  an  honest  man  have  done 
such  an  act  without  consulting  me  ?  Well,  it  is  to 
prevent  your  ruin  in  favour  of  this  girl  that  I  am  come 
to  Paris.  Your  mother,  on  her  death,  left  you 
enough  to  live  honourably  with,  and  not  to  squander 
it  in  presents  to  your  mistresses." 

"  I  assure  you,  my  father.  Marguerite  was  totally 
ignorant  of  this  donation." 

"  And  why  did  you  make  it,  then  ?  " 

"  Because  Marguerite,  the  woman  whom  you 
calumniate  so,  and  whom  you  wish  me  to  abandon, 
makes  the  sacrifice  of  all  she  has  to  live  with  me." 

"  And  you  accept  this  sacrifice  ?  What  a  man  you 
are,  sir,  to  permit  Mademoiselle  Marguerite  to 
sacrifice  anything  for  you.  Come,  this  is  enough. 
You  will  quit  this  woman.  Just  now  I  entreated  you  ; 
now  I  order  you.  I  will  not  allow  such  stupidities  in 
my  family.  Pack  up  your  box  and  prepare  to  follow 
me." 

"  Pardon  me,  my  father,"  I  now  said ;  "  but  I 
will  not  go." 

"  Because ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  of  an  age  when  I  am  no  longer 
bound  to  obey  an  order." 

My  father  turned  pale  at  this  reply. 

"  Very  good,  sir  ;  I  know  now  what  remains  for  me 
to  do."    He  rang.    Joseph  appeared. 

"  Take  my  luggage  to  the  Hotel  de  Paris,"  he  said 
to  my  servant  ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  passed  to 
his  room,  where  he  finished  dressing  himself.  When 
he  reappeared,  I  went  to  meet  him. 

"  You  promise  me,  my  father,"  I  said  to  him, 
"  to  do  nothing  that  will  cause  pain  to  Marguerite  ?  " 

My  father  stopped,  looked  at  me  with  disdain, 
and  merely  replied : 


190     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  You  are  mad,  I  think." 

After  which  he  went  out,  pulling  the  door  violently 
as  he  retired.  I  then  descended  in  my  turn,  took  a 
cab,  and  departed  for  Bougival.  Marguerite  was 
awaiting  my  arrival  at  the  window. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

"  At  length ! "  she  cried,  as  she  clung  round  my 
neck.    "  You  are  come  !    But  how  pale  you  are  !  " 

I  then  recounted  to  her  the  scene  with  my  father. 

"Ahl  I  suspected  as  much,"  she  said.  "When 
Joseph  announced  to  us  the  arrival  of  your  father, 
I  trembled  as  at  the  news  of  some  misfortune.  Poor 
friend  !  and  it  is  I  who  cause  j^ou  all  these  griefs. 
You  will  perhaps  do  better  to  quit  me  than  to  quarrel 
with  you  father.  Still,  I  have  done  him  no  harm.  We 
live  very  quietly  ;  we  will  live  still  more  so.  He 
knows  well  enough  that  you  must  have  a  mistress, 
and  he  ought  to  be  glad  that  it  is  me,  since  I  love  you, 
and  look  no  higher  than  your  position  places  you. 
Did  you  tell  him  how  we  had  arranged  the  future  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  that  which  has  most  enraged  him, 
for  in  this  determination  he  saw  the  proof  of  our 
mutual  love." 

"  What  is  to  be  done,  then  ?  " 

"  We  must  remain  together,  dear  Marguerite,  and 
let  the  storm  pass  over." 

"  But  will  it  pass  ?  " 

"  It  must." 

"  But  your  father  will  not  stop  here." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  he  will  do  ?  " 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  All  that  a  father  can  do  is  to 
make  his  son  obey  him.  He  will  remind  you  of  my 
past  life,  and  he  will  do  me,  perhaps,  the  honour 
to  invent  some  new  history  of  me,  to  make  you 
abandon  me." 

191 


192     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  You  know  well  that  I  love  you." 

"  Yes,  but  what  I  also  know  is,  that  you  must  sooner 
or  later  obey  your  father,  and  you  will  finish,  per- 
haps, by  allowing  him  to  convince  you." 

"  No,  Marguerite,  it  is  I  who  will  convince  him. 
It  is  the  meddling  of  some  of  his  friends  that  causes 
this  great  anger  ;  but  he  is  good,  he  is  just,  and  his 
first  impression  will  give  way.  Besides,  after  all, 
what  matters  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  Don't  say  that,  Armand  ;  I  should  prefer  any- 
thing to  its  being  thought  that  I  had  embroiled 
you  with  your  father.  Let  to-day  pass,  and  to- 
morrow return  to  Paris.  Your  father  will  have 
reflected  on  his  side  as  you  on  yours,  and  perhaps 
you  will  come  to  a  better  understanding.  Do  not 
shock  his  principles  ;  appear  to  make  some  con- 
cessions to  his  wishes,  and  not  to  think  so  much  of 
me,  and  he  will  leave  things  as  they  are,  Hope, 
my  friend,  and  be  quite  certain  that  happen  what 
will,  your  Marguerite  will  remain  true  to  you." 

"  You  swear  it  ?  " 

"  Have  I  need  to  swear  it  ?  " 

How  sweet  it  is  to  allow  oneself  to  be  reassured 
by  a  voice  which  one  loves  !  Marguerite  and  I  passed 
the  whole  day  in  arranging  our  projects,  as  if  we  saw 
the  necessity  of  realising  them  at  once.  Every 
moment  we  looked  for  some  event,  but  happily 
the  day  passed  without  bringing  anything  new.  The 
next  day  I  started  at  ten  o'clock,  and  about  twelve 
arrived  at  the  hotel. 

My  father  had  already  gone  out.  I  went  to  my 
rooms,  where  I  hoped  to  find  him.  No  one  had 
called.    I  went  to  my  lawyer's.    No  one  ! 

I  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  waited  until  six 
o'clock.    M.  Duval  did  not  return. 

I  started  back  to  Bougival,  I  found  Marguerite, 
not  awaiting  me  as  usual,  but  seated  in  the  chimney 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS   193 

corner,  the  weather  being  now  cold.  She  was  so 
plunged  in  her  reflections  that  she  allowed  me  to 
approach  her  chair  without  hearing  me,  or  turning 
round.  When  I  kissed  her  forehead,  she  started  as 
if  the  kiss  had  suddenly  awakened  her. 

"  You  frightened  me,"  she  said.  "  And  your 
father  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  seen  him.  I  know  not  what  it  means. 
I  found  him  neither  at  his  hotel  nor  at  any  of  the 
places  he  usually  frequents," 

"  Well,  we  must  begin  again  to-morrow." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  wait  till  he  sends  for  me. 
I  think  I  have  done  all  I  ought  to  do." 

"No,  my  friend,  it  is  not  enough  ;  you  must 
return  to  your  father — to-morrow  especially." 

"  Why  to-morrow,  more  than  any  other  day  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Marguerite,  who  appeared  to 
colour  a  little  at  the  question,  "  because  this  per- 
severance on  your  part  will  appear  more  sincere, 
and  our  pardon  will  result  more  promptly." 

All  the  rest  of  the  day,  Marguerite  was  preoccupied, 
abstracted,  gloomy.  I  was  obliged  to  repeat  twice 
what  I  had  to  say  to  her  before  I  could  get  a 
reply.  She  attributed  this  preoccupation  to  the 
fears  inspired  in  her  by  the  events  of  the  last  two 
days. 

I  passed  the  night  in  reassuring  her,  but  she  made 
me  depart  the  next  morning  in  such  a  state  of  dejection 
that  I  could  not  account  for  it. 

As  yesterday,  my  father  was  absent  ;  but,  on 
going  out,  he  had  left  this  letter  for  me  : 

"  If  you  return  to  see  me  to-day,  wait  for  me  till 
four  o'clock  ;  if  at  four  o'clock  I  have  not  returned, 
come  to-morrow  and  dine  with  me;  I  must  speak 
to  you." 

I  waited  till  four  ;  my  father  did  not  make  his 
appearance.    I  departed. 


194     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Yesterday  I  found  Marguerite  sad  ;  to-day  I  found 
her  feverish  and  agitated.  On  seeing  me  enter,  she 
flung  herself  around  my  neck,  and  wept  for  some  time 
in  my  arms.  I  questioned  her  as  to  this  sudden 
grief,  the  increase  of  which  alarmed  me.  She  gave 
me  no  positive  reason,  but  contented  herself  with 
alleging  all  that  a  woman  can  invent  when  she  does 
not  wish  to  answer  truly. 

When  she  became  somewhat  calmed,  I  recounted 
to  her  the  results  of  my  journey  ;  I  showed  her  my 
father's  letter,  remarking  to  her  that  we  might  augur 
well  from  it.  At  the  sight  of  this  letter,  and  at  the 
reflection  I  made  upon  it,  her  tears  redoubled  to  such 
a  degree  that  I  called  Nanine,  and,  fearing  a  nervous 
attack,  we  carried  the  poor  girl  to  bed  ;  she  cried 
without  speaking  a  word,  but  held  me  by  my  hands, 
and  kissed  them  every  moment.  I  asked  Nanine  if 
during  my  absence  her  mistress  had  received  any 
letter  or  visit  that  could  account  for  this  state  I 
found  her  in,  but  Nanine  replied  that  no  one  had 
called  and  no  letter  had  come. 

Still,  since  yesterday,  something  unpleasant  had 
taken  place,  which  Marguerite  concealed  from  me. 

She  appeared  a  little  more  calm  in  the  evening, 
and,  making  me  sit  by  the  side  of  her  bed,  she  renewed 
to  me  the  assurance  of  her  love.  She  then  smiled  on 
me,  but  with  an  effort,  for  in  spite  of  herself  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  I  employed  every  means 
to  induce  her  to  avow  the  real  cause  of  this  grief, 
but  she  persisted  in  giving  me  the  vague  reasons 
I  have  already  mentioned. 

She  finished  by  falling  asleep  in  my  arms,  but  it 
was  a  sleep  that  exhausts  the  body  instead  of  recruit- 
ing it  ;  occasionally  she  uttered  a  cry,  suddenly 
awoke,  and  after  assuring  herself  that  I  was  near 
her,  she  made  me  swear  to  love  her  always. 

I  could  comprehend  nothing  of  this  intermittent 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     195 

grief,  which  was  prolonged  till  morning.  She  then 
fell  into  a  kind  of  doze.  For  two  nights  she  had  not 
slept. 

This  repose  was  of  long  continuance.  About  eleven 
o'clock  Marguerite  awoke,  and,  seeing  me  up,  she 
looked  round  her,  exclaiming  : 

"  Are  you  going  already,  then  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  taking  her  hands,  "  but  I  wished  to 
let  you  sleep.    It  is  early  yet." 

"  At  what  hour  are  you  going  to  Paris  ?  " 

"  At  four  o'clock." 

"  So  soon  ?  Until  then,  remain  with  me,  will 
you  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly  ;  is  it  not  my  custom  ?  " 

"  What  happiness  !  We  will  go  to  breakfast  1  " 
she  continued,  with  an  absent  manner. 

"  If  you  like  it." 

"  And  you  will  kiss  me  till  the  moment  of  going  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  will  return  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  You  will  return  ?  "  she  said,  looking  at  me  with 
haggard  eyes. 

"  Of  course." 

"  Very  true  ;  you  will  return  to-night,  and  I  shall 
await  you  as  usual,  and  you  will  love  me,  and  we  shall 
be  as  happy  as  we  have  been  since  we  knew  each 
other." 

Every  word  of  this  was  spoken  in  so  hollow  a  tone 
that  it  seemed  to  conceal  some  painful  idea,  and  I 
trembled  every  moment  expecting  to  see  Marguerite 
fall  into  a  state  of  delirium. 

"  Listen,"  I  said  to  her,  "  you  are  ill ;  I  cannot 
leave  you  thus.  I  will  write  to  my  father  for  him  not 
to  expect  me." 

"^No  !  no  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Don't  do  that. 
Your  father  will  again  accuse  me  of  preventing  your 
coming  to  him  when  he  wishes  to  see  you.  No,  no. 
you  must  go.    Besides,  I  am  not  ill ;  I  am  very  well. 


196     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  have  had  an  unpleasant  dream  and  was  not  half 
awake  !  " 

From  this  moment  Marguerite  tried  to  appear  more 
cheerful.    She  wept  no  longer. 

When  the  hour  approached  for  me  to  go,  I  em- 
braced her,  and  asked  her  if  she  would  accompany 
me  to  the  railway  station  ;  I  hoped  that  the  walk 
would  cheer  her,  and  the  air  do  her  good.  Besides, 
I  wished  to  remain  with  her  as  long  as  possible.  She 
accepted  my  offer,  put  on  a  cloak,  and  accom- 
panied me  with  Nanine  that  she  might  not  return 
alone. 

Twenty  times  I  was  on  the  point  of  not  going. 
But  the  hope  of  returning  soon,  and  the  fear  of  once 
more  disposing  my  father  against  me  supported 
me,  and  the  train  carried  me  away. 

"  To-night,"  I  said  to  Marguerite  on  quitting  her. 
She  made  no  reply. 

Once  before  she  had  given  me  no  reply  to  the  same 

words  ;  and  the  Count  de  G ,  you  remember,  had 

passed  the  night  with  her  ;  but  that  time  was  so  far 
back,  that  it  seemed  effaced  from  my  memory,  and 
if  I  feared  anything,  it  certainly  was  not  that  Mar- 
guerite would  deceive  me. 

On  arriving  at  Paris,  I  hastened  to  Prudence,  to 
beg  her  to  go  and  see  Marguerite,  hoping  that  her 
chat  and  gaiety  would  amuse  her.  I  entered,  without 
being  announced,  and  found  Prudence  at  her  toilette. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  said  to  me  with  some  uneasiness,  "  is 
Marguerite  with  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"How  is  she?" 

"  She  is  suffering." 

"  Is  she  not  coming  ?  " 

"  Ought  she  to  come  ?  '* 

Tiladame  Duvernoy  blushed,  and  replied,  with  some 
embarrassment  : 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     197 

"  I  meant,  since  you  are  come  to  Paris,  will  she 
not  rejoin  you  here  ?  " 

"  No." 

I  looked  at  Prudence  ;  she  bent  down  her  eyes, 
and  in  her  expression  I  thought  I  read  the  fear  oi 
seeing  my  visit  prolonged. 

"  I  am  even  come,  my  dear  Prudence,  to  beg  you, 
if  you  have  nothing  to  do,  to  go  and  see  Marguerite 
to-night  ;  you  will  be  company  for  her,  and  you  can 
sleep  there.  I  never  saw  her  as  she  was  to-day,  and  I 
fear  she  will  be  ill." 

"  I  dine  in  town,"  replied  Prudence,  "  and  I 
cannot  see  Marguerite  to-night  ;  but  I  will  see  her 
to-morrow." 

I  took  leave  of  Madame  Duvernoy,  who  appeared 
to  me  almost  as  much  preoccupied  as  Marguerite, 
and  I  repaired  to  my  father,  whose  first  glance  re- 
garded me  with  attention.    He  tendered  me  his  hand. 

"  Your  two  visits  have  pleased  me,  Armand,"  he 
said  ;  "  they  have  made  me  hope,  that  you  have  also 
reflected  as  I  have  reflected." 

"  May  I  be  allowed  to  ask  you,  my  father,  what 
has  been  the  result  of  your  reflections  ?  " 

"  It  has  been,  my  son,  that  I  exaggerated  the 
importance  of  the  reports  that  were  m^ade  to  me, 
and  that  I  have  promised  myself  to  be  less  severe 
towards  you." 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  my  kind  father  !  "  I  exclaimed 
with  joy. 

"  I  say,  my  dear  child,  that  every  young  man  must 
have  a  mistress,  and  that,  from  fresh  information, 
I  would  rather  you  were  the  lover  of  Mademoiselle 
Gautier  than  of  any  other." 

"  My  excellent  father  !  how  happy  you  make 
me." 

We  conversed  thus  for  some  moments,  and  then 
sat  down  to  dinner.     My  father  was  charming  the 


igS     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

whole  of  dinner-time,  I  was  in  a  hurry  to  return  to 
Bougival  to  recount  to  Marguerite  this  happy  change. 
I  looked  at  the  clock  every  minute. 

"  You  are  regarding  the  hour,"  said  my  father. 
"  You  are  impatient  to  quit  me.  Oh  I  young  men  ! 
You  will  always  sacrifice  sincere  affections  for 
doubtful  ones  !  " 

"  Do  not  say  that,  my  father  !  Marguerite  loves 
me  ;  I  am  sure  of  it." 

My  father  made  no  reply  ;  he  appeared  neither 
to  doubt  or  to  believe. 

He  strongly  insisted  on  my  passing  the  entire 
evening  with  him,  and  that  I  should  not  return  until 
the  next  morning  ;  but  I  had  left  Marguerite  suffer- 
ing, I  said  to  him  ;  and  I  asked  his  permission  to 
return  to  her  early,  promising  to  come  back  the  next 
day.  The  weather  was  fine,  he  would  accompany  me 
to  the  station.  Never  had  I  been  so  happy.  The 
future  appeared  to  me  such  as  I  had  long  wished  to 
behold  it.  I  loved  my  father  more  than  I  had  ever 
done.  At  the  moment  I  was  about  to  leave,  he  again 
begged  me  to  remain  ;   I  refused. 

"  You  love  her  sincerely,  then  ?  "  he  asked  me. 

"  Madly." 

"  Go,  then  !  "  and  he  drew  his  hand  across  his  fore- 
head as  if  to  drive  away  a  thought  ;  he  then  opened 
his  lips  as  if  about  to  say  something,  but  he  only 
pressed  my  hand  and  quitted  me  abruptly,  saying  : 

"  To-morrow,  then." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

To  me  it  seemed  that  the  train  did  not  move.  I  was 
at  Bougival  at  eleven  o'clock.  Not  a  window  of  the 
house  had  a  light,  and  I  rang  without  receiving  any 
reply.  It  was  the  first  time  that  such  a  thing  had 
happened  to  me.  At  length  the  gardener  appeared. 
I  entered.    Nanine  joined  me  with  a  light. 

I  arrived  at  Marguerite's  chamber. 
'  Where  is  Madame  ?  " 

"  Madame  is  gone  to  Paris,"  replied  Nanine. 
To  Paris?  " 
Yes,  sir." 
When  ?  " 

"  Just  one  hour  after  you." 

"  She  has  left  with  you  nothing  for  me  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 
'Tis  strange  !    Did  she  say  that  anyone  expected 
her  ?  " 

"  No." 

Nanine  left  me. 

It  is  possible  she  might  have  had  some  fears  I 
thought,  and  is  gone  to  Paris  to  assure  herself  whether 
the  visit  I  told  her  I  was  to  make  to  my  father  was 
not  a  pretence  to  obtain  a  day's  liberty. 

Perhaps  Prudence  has  written  her  on  some  im- 
portant affair,  I  said  to  myself  when  alone ;  but  I 
had  seen  Prudence  on  my  arrival,  and  she  had  said 
nothing  to  me  that  could  induce  me  to  think  that 
she  had  written  to  Marguerite. 

Suddenly   I   remembered  the   question   Madame 
199 


200     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Duvernoy  had  asked  me,  "  She  will  not  come  to-day, 
then  ?  "  when  I  had  mentioned  that  Marguerite  was 
ill.  I  remembered  at  the  same  time  the  embarrassed 
air  of  Prudence,  when  I  looked  at  her  after  this 
sentence,  which  seemed  to  betray  an  appointment. 
To  this  remembrance  was  joined  that  of  Marguerite's 
tears  during  the  whole  day,  which  the  kind  reception 
of  my  father  had  made  me  forget  somev^^hat. 

From  this  moment  all  the  incidents  of  the  day 
collected  round  my  first  suspicion,  and  fixed  it  so 
firmly  in  my  mind  that  everything,  even  to  the 
paternal  clemency,  confirmed  it. 

Marguerite  had  almost  exacted  that  I  should  go  to 
Paris  ;  she  had  affected  calmness  when  I  proposed  to 
remain  with  her.  Had  I  fallen  into  a  trap  ?  Had 
Marguerite  deceived  me  ?  Had  she  reckoned  on 
returning  in  time  for  me  not  to  notice  her  absence,  and 
had  chance  delayed  her  ?  Why  had  she  said  nothing 
to  Nanine,  or  why  had  she  not  written  to 
me  ?  What  meant  those  tears,  this  absence,  this 
mystery  ? 

This  is  what  I  asked  myself  with  fear  in  the  midst 
of  that  empty  chamber,  and  with  my  eyes  fixed  on 
the  timepiece,  which,  marking  midnight,  seemed 
to  tell  me  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  hope  to  see  my 
mistress  return. 

Nevertheless,  after  the  arrangements  we  had  made, 
after  the  sacrifice  offered  and  accepted,  was  it 
likely  she  had  deceived  me  ?  No.  I  endeavoured  to 
discard  my  first  suppositions. 

"  The  poor  girl  has  found  a  purchaser  for  her 
furniture,  and  is  gone  to  Paris  to  see  to  it.  She 
would  not  warn  me,  for  she  knew  that,  although  I 
accept  this  sale  as  necessary  to  our  future  happiness, 
still  it  is  painful  to  me,  and  she  was  afraid  of  wounding 
my  delicacy  by  speaking  of  it.  She  prefers  re- 
appearing when  all  is  concluded.    Prudence  evidently 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     201 

expected  her  for  that,  and  betrayed  herself  for  me. 
Marguerite  could  not  conclude  her  bargain  to-day, 
and  therefore  sleeps  with  her,  or  she  may  even  arrive 
presently,  for  she  must  imagine  my  uneasiness,  and 
would  certainly  not  leave  me  in  it. 

"  But,  then,  why  those  tears  ?  No  doubt,  in 
spite  of  her  love  for  me,  the  poor  girl  could  not 
resolve  without  tears  to  abandon  the  luxury  am.idst 
which  she  has  hitherto  lived,  and  which  made  her 
happy  and  envied." 

I  willingly  pardoned  Marguerite  these  regrets. 
I  awaited  her  impatiently  to  say  to  her,  while  covering 
her  with  lasses,  that  I  had  divined  the  cause  of  her 
mysterious  absence.  Still  the  night  wore  away,  and 
Marguerite  did  not  arrive. 

Alarm  drew  closer  its  circle  by  degrees,  and 
increased  the  fever  of  my  head  and  heart.  Perhaps 
something  had  happened  to  her  ?  Perhaps  she  was 
wounded,  ill,  dead  ?  Perhaps  I  should  see  a  messenger 
arrive  announcing  to  me  some  grievous  accident  ? 
Perhaps  the  daylight  would  find  me  in  the  same 
uncertainty  and  possessed  with  the  same  fears  ? 

The  idea  that  Marguerite  was  deceiving  me  at  the 
very  moment  I  was  expecting  her  amidst  the  terrors 
roused  by  her  absence,  no  longer  worried  me.  It 
required  some  cause  independent  of  her  will  to 
detain  her  from  me ;  and  the  more  I  thought  of  it,  the 
more  I  was  convinced  that  the  cause  could  be  nothing 
else  than  some  unforeseen  accident.  Oh,  vanity  of 
man  !    thou  exhibitest  thyself  under  every  form  ! 

One  o'clock  struck.  I  said  to  myself  I  would  wait 
another  hour,  but  that  at  two  o'clock,  if  Marguerite 
had  not  returned,  I  would  start  for  Paris. 

In  the  meantime,  I  took  up  a  book,  for  I  dared  not 
think.  Manon  Lescaut  lay  open  on  the  table.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  in  different  places  the  pages  were 
moist,  as  if  with  tears.    After  turning  over  the  leaves, 


202     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  closed  the  book,  its  characters  appearing  to  me 
void  of  sense  through  the  veil  of  my  doubts. 

Time  wore  slowly  on.  The  sky  was  overcast.  An 
autumn  rain  pelted  against  the  windows.  The 
empty  bed  seemed  to  me  at  times  to  take  the  aspect 
of  a  tomb.  A  fear  seized  upon  me.  I  opened  the 
door,  listened,  and  heard  nothing  but  the  sound  of 
the  wind  through  the  trees.  Not  a  vehicle  passed 
along  the  road.  The  half-hour  struck  mournfully 
from  the  church  clock. 

At  length  I  actually  feared  that  someone  would 
enter.  I  fancied  that  only  the  news  of  some  accident 
could  reach  me  at  this  dreary  hour. 

Two  o'clock  struck.  I  still  waited  a  little.  The 
pendulum  of  the  timepiece  alone  disturbed  the 
silence  with  its  regular  and  monotonous  click ! 
click  ! 

At  length  I  quitted  the  chamber,  whose  smallest 
objects  had  assumed  that  sad  aspect  which  the 
gloomy  dreariness  of  the  heart  confers  on  all  sur- 
rounding things. 

In  the  adjoining  room  I  found  Nanine  asleep 
over  her  work.  At  the  opening  of  the  door  she  awoke 
and  inquired  if  her  mistress  had  returned. 

"  No  ;  but  if  she  should  return,  you  will  tell  her 
that  I  could  not  resist  my  uneasiness,  and  that  I  am 
gone  to  Paris." 

"  At  this  hour  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  But  how  ?    You  will  not  find  a  coach." 

"  I  will  go  on  foot." 

"  But  it  rains." 

"  What  matter  ?  " 

"  Madame  will  return,  or  if  she  does  not  return, 
it  will  still  be  time  at  daylight  to  go  out  and  see  what 
has  detained  her.  You  will  be  murdered  on  the 
road." 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     203 

"  There  is  no  danger,  my  dear  Nanine.  Adieu  till 
to-morrow." 

The  worthy  girl  went  for  my  cloak,  threw  it  over 
my  shoulders,  offered  to  go  and  wake  Mother  Arnold, 
and  to  inquire  if  it  was  not  possible  to  obtain  a 
coach  ;  but  I  opposed  it,  convinced  that  I  should 
lose  in  this  perhaps  useless  attempt  more  time  than 
half  the  journey  would  occupy.  Besides,  I  required 
air  and  bodily  fatigue  to  overcome  the  excitement  to 
which  I  was  a  prey. 

I  took  the  key  of  the  apartment  of  the  Rue  d'Antin, 
and  after  bidding  farewell  to  Nanine,  who  accom- 
panied me  to  the  gate,  I  departed. 

At  first  I  ran,  but  the  ground  was  newly  moistened, 
and  it  doubly  fatigued  me.  After  about  half  an 
hour  at  this  pace,  I  was  forced  to  stop  ;  I  was  in  a 
sweat.  I  took  breath  and  continued  my  journey. 
The  darkness  was  so  complete,  that  I  trembled 
every  moment  lest  I  should  run  against  one  of  the 
trees  by  the  road-side,  which,  presenting  themselves 
suddenly  to  my  eyes,  had  the  appearance  of  tall 
phantoms  advancing  against  me. 

I  overtook  one  or  two  carriers'  carts  which  I  soon 
left  behind  me.  A  carriage  was  on  its  way  at  a  smart 
trot  towards  Bougival.  At  the  moment  it  passed 
me,  the  hope  seized  me  that  Marguerite  was  inside 
of  it.  I  stopped,  crying  out,  "  Marguerite  !  Mar- 
guerite I  "  But  no  one  replied,  and  the  carriage 
pursued  its  route.  I  looked  after  it  till  it  disappeared, 
and  then  resumed  my  journey.  It  took  me  two  hours 
to  reach  the  Barrier  de  I'Etoile. 

The  sight  of  Paris  restored  my  strength,  and  I  ran 
down  the  alley  that  I  had  so  frequently  passed  through 
before. 

On  this  night,  no  one  was  passing.  It  seemed  like 
the  promenade  of  a  dead  city.  Daylight  was  just 
making  its  appearance  when  I  arrived  at  the  Rue 


204     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

d'Antin.  The  great  metropolis  was  already  a  little 
astir,  before  wholly  rising  to  the  duties  of  the  day. 

Five  o'clock  struck  from  the  clock  of  St.  Roch  at 
the  moment  I  entered  Marguerite's  house.  I  gave 
my  name  to  the  porter,  who  had  received  from  me  gold 
pieces  enough  to  know  that  I  had  a  sufficient  right 
to  come  to  Mademoiselle  Gautier's  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning. 

I,  therefore,  passed  without  obstacle. 

I  might  have  asked  him  if  Marguerite  was  at  home, 
but  he  might  have  replied  to  me  "  No  !  "  and  I  pre- 
ferred doubting  two  minutes  longer,  for  in  doubting 
I  still  hoped. 

I  ascended.  I  listened  at  the  door,  endeavouring 
to  catch  a  sound,  a  movement.  Nothing.  The 
silence  of  the  country  seemed  to  be  continued  here. 

I  opened  the  door  and  entered.  Every  curtain 
was  hermetically  closed.  I  drew  those  of  the  dining- 
room,  and  turned  towards  the  bedroom,  the  door  of 
which  I  pushed  open.  I  sprang  at  the  cord  of  the 
window  curtains,  and  pulled  it  violently.  The 
curtains  separated  ;  a  faint  light  entered  ;  I  ran 
to  the  bed.    It  was  empty  ! 

I  opened  the  doors  one  after  another  ;  I  searched 
every  room.  No  one.  It  nearly  drove  me  mad.  I 
passed  into  the  dressing-room,  the  window  of  which 
I  opened,  and  called  Prudence  several  times.  The 
window  of  Madame  Duvernoy's  room  was  closed. 

I  then  descended  to  the  porter,  of  whom  I  inquired 
if  Mademoiselle  Gautier  had  been  to  her  rooms  during 
the  day. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  with  Madame  Duvernoy." 

"  Did  she  leave  any  message  for  me  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"  Do  you  know  what  they  did  afterwards  ?  " 

"  They  entered  a  coach." 

"  What  sort  of  a  coach  ?  " 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     205 

"  A  hired  one." 

What  did  all  this  mean  ?  I  knocked  at  the  next 
door. 

"  Where  are  j^ou  going,  sir  ?  "  inquired  the  porter 
after  letting  me  in. 

"  To  Madame  Duvernoy," 

"  She  has  not  retm^ned." 

"  You  are  sure  of  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  indeed  here  is  a  letter  brought  for  her 
yesterday  evening,  and  which  I  have  not  yet 
delivered;"  and  the  porter  showed  me  a  letter  on 
which  I  mechanically  cast  my  eyes.  I  recognised 
Marguerite's  handwriting.  I  took  the  letter.  The 
address  bore  these  words  : 

"  To  Madame  Duvernoy,  to  be  delivered  to  M. 
Duval." 

"  This  letter  is  for  me,"  I  said  to  the  porter,  and  I 
showed  him  the  address. 

"  Are  you  Monsieur  Duval  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Yes." 

"  Ah  !  I  recognise  you  ;  you  often  came  to  Madame 
Duvernoy's." 

Once  in  the  street,  I  broke  the  seal  of  the  letter. 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  my  feet,  I  should  not 
have  been  more  petrified  than  I  was  at  its  contents  : 

"  When  you  read  this  letter,  Armand,  I  shall 
already  be  the  mistress  of  another.  All  is  therefore 
at  an  end  between  us. 

"  Return  to  your  father,  my  friend  ;  go  and  see 
your  sister,  a  young  girl,  chaste,  ignorant  of  all  our 
miseries,  in  Vv^hose  society  you  will  soon  forget  what 
you  have  been  made  to  suffer  by  that  lost  girl. 
Marguerite  Gautier,  whom  you  fondly  loved  for  a 
moment,  and  who  is  indebted  to  you  for  the  few 
happy  hours  of  a  life  which  she  hopes  will  not  now 
be  a  long  one." 

When  I  read  the  last  words,  I  thought  my  brain 


2o6     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

would  burst.  For  a  moment,  I  really  felt  as  if  I 
should  fall  to  the  ground.  A  cloud  overspread  my 
eyes,  and  my  blood  beat  against  my  temples. 

At  length  I  recovered  a  little  ;  I  looked  around 
me,  quite  astonished  to  see  that  the  world  still 
moved  on,  in  spite  of  my  intense  affliction. 

I  was  not  strong  enough  to  support  alone  the  blow 
which  Marguerite  had  dealt  me, 

I  then  remembered  that  my  father  was  in  the  same 
city  as  myself,  that  in  ten  minutes  I  could  be  with 
him,  and  that  whatever  was  the  cause  of  my  grief  he 
would  comfort  me. 

I  ran  like  a  madman,  like  a  thief,  to  the  Hotel 
de  Paris  ;  I  found  the  key  in  the  door  of  my  father's 
apartment.    I  entered. 

He  was  reading. 

From  the  little  astonishment  he  showed  on  seeing 
me,  one  would  have  said  he  expected  me. 

I  threw  myself  into  his  arms  without  saying  a  word 
to  him.  I  gave  him  Marguerite's  letter,  and,  falling 
on  his  bed,  I  wept  abundantly. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

When  all  things  had  resumed  their  course,  I  could 
not  believe  that  the  day  now  rising  would  not  be 
similar  for  me  to  those  that  had  preceded  it.  There 
were  moments  when  I  fancied  that  a  circumstance 
which  I  no  longer  remembered  had  made  me  pass 
the  night  away  from  Marguerite,  but  that  if  I  returned 
to  Bougival,  I  should  find  her  uneasy  as  I  had  been, 
and  that  she  would  demand  of  me  what  had  kept 
me  away  from  her. 

When  life  has  contracted  a  habit  like  that  of  love, 
it  seems  impossible  that  this  habit  can  break  without 
destroying  at  the  same  time  all  the  other  roots  of  life, 
I  was  therefore  forced  from  time  to  time  to  read  over 
Marguerite's  letter,  to  convince  myself  that  it  was 
not  a  dream. 

My  body,  giving  way  beneath  the  moral  shock, 
was  incapable  of  movement.  Wretchedness,  the 
night's  journey  and  the  morning's  news,had  exhausted 
me.  My  father  profited  by  this  total  prostration  of 
my  strength  to  demand  from  me  a  formal  promise  to 
depart  with  him. 

I  promised  all  he  wished.  I  was  incapable  of 
supporting  any  discussion,  and  I  required  a  real 
affection  to  enable  me  to  live  after  what  had  taken 
place. 

I  was  only  too  happy  in  thinking  that  my  father 
kindly  consoled  me  in  my  great  grief. 

All  that  I  recollect  is  that,  on  this  day,  about 
five  o'clock,  he  seated  me  beside  him  in  a  post- 
207 


2o8     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

chaise.  Without  saying  anything  to  me,  he  had  my 
trunk  packed,  had  it  strapped  with  his  own  behind 
the  carriage,  and  took  me  away. 

I  know  not  what  I  did  until  the  town  had  dis- 
appeared, and  the  solitude  of  the  road  recalled  to  me 
the  void  of  my  heart. 

Then  tears  came  to  my  relief. 

My  father  had  comprehended  that  words,  even 
from  him,  v/ould  not  console  me,  and  he  allowed  me 
to  weep  without  a  syllable,  contenting  himself  at 
times  with  pressing  my  hands,  as  if  to  remind  me  that 
I  had  a  friend  at  my  side. 

At  night  I  slept  a  little.  I  dreamt  of  Marguerite. 
I  suddenly  awoke,  not  comprehending  why  I  was 
in  a  carriage.  Then  reality  returned  to  my  mind, 
and  I  bowed  my  head  on  my  breast.  I  dared  not 
converse  with  my  father,  still  fearing  that  he  might  say 
to  me : 

"  You  see  that  I  was  right  when  I  denied  the  love 
of  this  woman." 

But  he  did  not  abuse  his  position,  and  we  arrived 

at  C without  his  making  the  slightest  allusion 

to  the  event  which  had  compelled  my  departure. 

When  I  embraced  my  sister,  I  remembered  the 
words  of  Marguerite  that  referred  to  her,  but  I  soon 
felt  that,  good  as  she  was,  my  sister  would  be  in- 
sufficient to  make  me  forget  my  mistress. 

The  shooting  season  was  still  open  ;  my  father 
thought  that  this  would  be  some  distraction  for  me. 
He  therefore  arranged  some  shooting  parties  with 
friends  and  neighbours.  I  attended  them  without 
repugnance  as  without  enthusiasm,  and  that  sort  of 
apathy  which  characterised  all  my  actions  since  my 
departure. 

We  shot  as  we  liked.  I  was  placed  at  my  post. 
I  laid  my  unloaded  gun  against  a  tree,  and  dreamt. 
I  looked  at  the  clouds  as  they  passed.     I  allowed 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     209 

my  thoughts  to  wander  over  the  solitary  plains,  and 
occasionally  heard  myself  called  by  some  sportsman 
who  would  point  to  a  hare  within  a  dozen  paces  of  me. 

None  of  these  details  escaped  my  father,  who  did 
not  allow  himself  to  be  deceived  by  my  apparent 
calmness.  He  well  understood  that,  prostrated  as  I 
was,  my  heart  would  some  day  have  a  terrible, 
perhaps  dangerous  reaction,  and  whilst  he  avoided 
consoling  me,  he  did  his  utmost  to  amuse  me. 

My  sister,  naturally,  was  not  acquainted  with  what 
had  transpired  ;  she  could  not,  therefore,  comprehend 
why  her  brother,  formerly  so  gay,  had  so  suddenly 
become  thoughtful  and  sad. 

At  times,  surprised  in  the  midst  of  my  sorrow  by 
the  uneasy  regard  of  my  father,  I  tendered  him  my 
hand  and  pressed  his,  as  if  tacitly  to  demand  of  him 
pardon  for  the  injury  which,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  had 
done  him. 

A  month  thus  passed,  but  this  was  all  I  could  sup- 
port. The  remembrance  of  Marguerite  always  pur- 
sued me.  I  had  too  deeply  loved  this  woman  to  be- 
come suddenly  indifferent  to  her.  I  found  that  I  must 
either  love  her  or  hate  her.  And,  above  all,  I  found 
that  however  I  felt  towards  her,  I  must  see  her  once 
more,  and  that  soon. 

This  desire  entered  my  mind,  and  fixed  itself  there 
with  all  the  violence  of  a  will  that  had  at  length  re- 
appeared in  my  listless  frame. 

It  was  not  on  some  future  day,  in  a  month,  in  a 
week,  that  I  felt  I  must  see  Marguerite,  it  was  on  the 
very  morning  after  the  day  on  which  the  idea  occurred 
to  me  ;  and  I  told  my  father  that  I  was  about  to 
quit  him  on  some  business  that  called  me  to  Paris, 
but  that  I  would  speedily  return. 

Of  course,  he  guessed  the  motive  for  my  leaving, 
for  he  insisted  that  I  should  remain  ;  but  seeing  that 
the  non-execution  of  this  desire,  under  the  irritable 


210     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

state  I  was  in,  might  produce  consequences  fatal 
to  me,  he  embraced  me,  and  begged  me,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  speedily  to  rejoin  him. 

I  did  not  sleep  until  I  arrived  in  Paris.  Once 
there,  what  was  I  to  do  ?  I  knew  not ;  but  before 
anything  I  must  think  of  Marguerite. 

I  went  to  my  rooms  to  dress,  and  as  the  weather 
was  fine,  and  there  was  still  time,  I  repaired  to  the 
Champs  Elys^es. 

In  about  half  an  hour,  I  saw  approaching  in  the 
distance,  and  from  the  round  point  at  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  Marguerite's  carriage.  She  had  re- 
purchased her  horses,  for  the  carriage  was  in  all 
respects  the  same  as  formerly,  but  she  was  not 
inside. 

Scarcely  had  I  remarked  this  absence,  when  in 
casting  my  eyes  around  me,  I  saw  Marguerite,  who 
had  dismounted,  walking  with  a  female  whom  I  had 
never  seen  before. 

On  passing  close  to  me  she  turned  pale,  and  a 
nervous  smile  parted  her  lips.  As  for  me,  a  violent 
beating  of  the  heart  shook  my  bosom,  but  I  con- 
trived to  give  a  cold  expression  to  my  face,  and  as 
coldly  saluted  my  ancient  mistress,  who  almost 
immediately  rejoined  her  carriage,  into  which  she 
entered  with  her  friend. 

I  knew  Marguerite.  Our  sudden  meeting  must  have 
confounded  her.  No  doubt  she  had  heard  of  my 
departure,  which  had  tranquillised  her  as  to  the  con- 
sequences of  our  rupture  ;  but,  seeing  me  returned, 
and  finding  herself  face  to  face  with  me,  pale  as  I 
was,  she  had  conjectured  that  my  return  had  an 
object,  and  she  would  ask  herself  what  was  about 
to  take  place. 

If  I  had  found  Marguerite  unhappy  ;  if,  instead  of 
revenging  myself,  I  could  have  come  to  her  relief,  I 
should  perhaps  have  pardoned  her,  and  certainly 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     211 

should  never  have  thought  of  injuring  her ;  but 
I  found  her  happy,  in  appearance  at  least  ;  another 
had  bestowed  on  her  the  luxury  I  could  no  longer 
continue.  Our  rupture,  caused  by  herself,  con- 
sequently took  the  character  of  the  lowest  self- 
interest.  I  was  humbled  in  my  pride  as  in  my  love  ; 
she  must  necessarily  pay  for  what  I  had  suffered. 

I  could  not  be  indiferent  to  what  this  woman  did  ; 
consequently,  that  which  would  annoy  her  the  most 
was  my  indifference  ;  it  was,  therefore,  this  senti- 
ment which  I  must  feign,  not  only  to  her  eyes,  but  to 
those  of  others. 

I  endeavoured  to  assume  a  smiling  face,  and 
repaired  to  Prudence's  rooms.  The  maid  went  to 
announce  me,  and  made  me  wait  a  few  minutes 
in  the  salon. 

Madame  Duvernoy  at  length  appeared,  and  led  me 
into  the  boudoir  ;  at  the  moment  when  I  was  taking 
a  seat,  I  heard  the  door  of  the  salon  open,  and  a  light 
step  creak  on  the  floor,  then  the  door  of  the  landing 
was  violently  shut. 

"  I  disturb  you  ?  "  I  said  to  Prudence. 

"  Not  at  all ;  Marguerite  was  here.  When  she 
heard  you  announced,  she  fled  ;  'tis  she  who  has  just 
gone  out." 

"  I  frighten  her  then,  now  ?  " 

"  No,  but  she  fears  it  would  be  disagreeable  to 
you  to  see  her." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  I  said,  making  an  effort  to  breathe 
freely,  for  my  emotion  choked  me  ;  "  the  poor  girl 
quitted  me  to  have  her  carriage  again,  her  furniture, 
and  her  diamonds  ;  she  has  done  right,  and  I  ought 
not  to  be  angry  with  her.  I  encountered  her  to-day," 
I  observed  carelessly. 

"  Where  ?  "  said  Prudence,  who  regarded  me  and 
appeared  to  ask  herself  if  this  was  really  the  man  who 
had  been  so  deeply  in  love. 


212     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  In  the  Champs  Elys^es.  She  was  with  another 
very  pretty  woman  ;  who  is  that  woman  ?  " 

"  What  was  her  appearance  and  dress  ?  " 

"  A  blonde,  thin,  and  wears  ringlets,  blue  eyes, 
and  dressed  elegantly." 

"  Ah  !  'tis  Olympia  ;  a  very  pretty  girl,  in  fact." 

"  With  whom  does  she  live  ?  " 

"  With  no  one,  with  every  one." 

"  And  she  resides  ?  " 

"  Rue  Tronchet,  No.  — .  Ah  !  I  see,  you  would 
pay  your  court  to  her  ?  " 

"  One  doesn't  know  what  may  happen." 

"  And  Marguerite  ?  " 

"  To  tell  you  that  I  no  longer  think  of  her  would 
be  a  lie  ;  but  I  am  one  of  those  men  with  whom  the 
mode  of  breaking  goes  a  great  way.  Now,  Mar- 
guerite gave  me  my  dismissal  in  such  a  light  sort  of 
fashion  that  I  have  thought  myself  a  very  great 
fool  for  having  been  so  smitten  with  her  as  I  have 
been,  for  I  was  really  quite  in  love  with  the  girl." 

You  can  imagine  in  what  a  tone  I  endeavoured  to 
speak  these  words  ;  the  perspiration  rolled  down  my 
face. 

"  She  loved  you,  too,  and  she  loves  you  still  ;  as 
a  proof,  after  she  met  you  to-day,  she  came  to  me 
directly  to  tell  me  of  her  encounter.  When  she 
arrived,  she  was  quite  out  of  breath  and  almost  ill." 

"  Well,  what  did  she  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  She  said,  'no  doubt  he  will  come  and  see  you,'  and 
she  begged  me  to  implore  your  pardon  for  her." 

"  I  have  pardoned  her  ;  you  can  tell  her  so.  She 
is  a  good  girl,  but  she  is  still  a  girl  ;  and  what  she  has 
done  to  me  is  just  what  I  might  have  expected.  I 
am  even  grateful  to  her  for  her  resolution,  for  to-day 
I  ask  myself  to  what  my  idea  of  living  entirely 
with  her  would  have  led  us.    It  was  sheer  folly." 

"  She  will  be  more  contented  on  learning  that  you 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     213 

have  made  up  your  mind  as  to  the  necessity  in  which 
she  found  herself.  It  was  time  she  quitted  you,  my 
friend.  The  scamp  of  a  man  to  whom  she  had  pro- 
posed to  sell  her  furniture,  had  been  round  to  her 
creditors  to  ascertain  how  much  she  owed  them  ; 
the  latter  became  fearful,  and  they  were  about  to  sell 
in  two  days'  time." 

"  And  now,  it  is  all  paid  ?  " 

"  Nearly." 

"  And  who  found  the  cash  ?  " 

"  The  Count  de  N .    Ah  !   my  dear  !  there  are 

men  made  expressly  for  that.  To  be  brief,  he  gave 
20,000  francs  ;  but  he  achieved  his  object.  He  laiows 
well  that  Marguerite  is  not  in  love  with  him,  but  that 
does  not  prevent  him  acting  genteelly  towards  her. 
You  have  seen,  he  has  repurchased  her  horses,  he  has 
redeemed  her  diamonds,  and  gives  her  as  much 
money  as  the  Duke  gave  her  ;  if  she  will  live  quietly 
this  man  will  remain  a  long  time  with  her." 

"  And  what  is  she  doing  ?  Does  she  reside  entirely 
at  Paris  ?  " 

"  She  would  never  return  to  Bougival  after  you 
left  it.  It  was  I  who  went  there  for  her  things,  and 
yours,  too,  of  which  I  have  made  a  parcel  which  you 
will  find  here.  There  is  everything  except  a  small 
portfolio  with  your  initials.  Marguerite  would  take 
it,  and  has  it  with  her.  If  you  wish  it,  I  will  ask  her 
for  it." 

"  Let  her  keep  it,"  I  stammered,  for  I  felt  the  tears 
mount  from  my  heart  to  my  eyes  at  the  remembrance 
of  the  village  where  I  had  been  so  happy,  and  at  the 
idea  that  Marguerite  resolved  to  keep  an  object  that 
belonged  to  me  and  reminded  her  of  me.  If  she  had 
entered  at  this  moment,  my  resolutions  of  vengeance 
would  have  disappeared  and  I  should  have  fallen  at 
her  feet, 

"  For  the  rest,"  resumed  Prudence,  "  1  have  nevei 


214     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

seen  her  as  she  is  at  present  ;  she  scarcely  sleeps  at  all, 
she  attends  balls  and  suppers,  and  even  drinks  to 
excess.  Lately,  after  a  supper,  she  remained  nearly 
a  whole  week  in  bed,  and  when  the  physician  allowed 
her  to  get  up,  she  recommenced  her  old  course, 
at  the  risk  of  killing  herself.  Will  you  go  and  see 
her  ?  " 

"  Where's  the  use  ?  I  am  come  to  see  you,  because 
you  were  agreeable  towards  me,  and  because  I  knew 
you  before  I  knew  Marguerite.  It  is  to  you  I  am 
indebted  for  having  been  her  lover,  as  it  is  to  you  I 
am  indebted  for  being  so  no  longer  ;  is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  faith,  I  did  all  I  could  to  make  her  quit  you, 
and  I  think  that  in  the  end  you  will  not  blame  me 
for  it." 

"  I  am  doubly  grateful  to  you,"  I  added,  rising, 
for  I  felt  a  disgust  towards  this  woman  on  seeing  hei 
take  so  seriously  all  that  I  had  said  to  her. 

"  Are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Yes.    I  know  quite  enough." 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  " 

"Soon.    Adieu." 

"  Adieu." 

Prudence  conducted  me  to  the  door,  and  I  re- 
turned to  my  rooms  with  tears  of  rage  in  my  eyes  and 
a  cry  of  vengeance  in  my  heart. 

Thus  Marguerite  was  decidedly  a  girl  like  the  others; 
thus,  this  deep  love  she  had  pretended  for  me  could 
not  struggle  against  the  desire  of  resuming  her  past 
life,  and  the  need  she  felt  of  having  a  carriage  and  of 
pursuing  her  orgies. 

Such  were  my  thoughts  whilst  passing  sleepless 
nights,  whereas  had  I  reflected  as  coldly  as  I  affected 
to  do,  I  should  have  seen  in  this  new  and  noisy  exist- 
ence of  Marguerite,  a  hope  within  her  of  silencing  a 
constant  thought,  an  incessant  remembrance. 

Unfortunately,  evil  passion  predominated  in  me, 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     215 

and  I  now  only  sought  a  means  of  torturing  this 
poor  creature. 

Oh  !  man  is  very  little,  and  very  vile,  when  one 
of  his  evil  passions  is  wounded. 

This  Olym.pia,  with  whom  I  had  seen  her,  was, 
if  not  the  friend  of  Marguerite,  at  any  rate  the  one 
she  most  associated  with  since  her  return  to  Paris. 
She  was  about  to  give  a  ball,  and  as  I  supposed  that 
Marguerite  would  be  there,  I  endeavoured  to  get 
an  invitation,  and  succeeded. 

When,  full  of  painful  emotions,  I  arrived  at  this 
ball,  it  was  already  very  animated.  They  danced, 
they  sang,  and  in  one  of  the  quadrilles  I  perceived 

Marguerite  dancing  with  the  Count  de  N ,  who 

appeared  quite  proud  of  exhibiting  her,  and  seemed 
to  say  to  everyone  : 

"  This  woman  is  mine." 

I  stood  with  my  back  to  the  fire-place,  just  opposite 
Marguerite,  and  regarded  her  as  she  danced.  Scarcely 
had  she  remarked  me  when  she  became  troubled.  I 
saw  her  and  saluted  her  carelessly  with  my  hand  and 
eyes. 

When  I  thought  that,  after  the  ball,  it  would  no 
longer  be  with  me,  but  with  the  rich  imbecile,  that 
she  would  depart,  the  blood  m.ounted  to  my  face, 
and  I  felt  a  longing  to  disturb  their  loves. 

After  the  country  dance,  I  proceeded  to  offer  my 
salutations  to  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who  dis- 
played to  the  eyes  of  her  guests  a  pair  of  mag- 
nificent shoulders  and  the  moiety  of  a  ravishing 
bosom. 

This  girl  was  beautiful,  and  with  respect  to  shape, 
more  so  than  Marguerite.  I  discovered  this  still 
more  from  certain  looks  which  the  latter  cast  at 
Olympia  whilst  I  conversed  with  her.  The  man  who 
should  be  the  lover  of  this  woman,  might  be  as  proud 
as  M.  de  N ,  and  she  was  beautiful  enough  to 


2i6     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

inspire  a  passion  equal  to  that  which  Marguerite  had 
inspired  in  me. 

At  this  period  she  had  no  lover.  It  would  not 
be  difficult  to  fill  the  place.  The  only  thing  was  to 
display  gold  enough  to  make  oneself  remarked. 

My  resolution  was  taken.  This  woman  should 
be  my  mistress.  I  commenced  my  role  of  a  postulant 
in  dancing  with  Olympia.  Half  an  hour  after  Mar- 
guerite, pale  as  death,  put  on  her  cloak  and  quitted 
the  ballrooms 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

This  was  already  something,  but  it  was  not  enough. 
I  felt  the  power  I  had  over  this  woman,  and  I  basely 
took  advantage  of  it.  When  I  reflect  that  she  is 
now  dead,  I  ask  myself  if  God  will  ever  pardon  me 
the  injury  which  I  caused  her. 

After  supper,  which  was  a  very  noisy  one,  cards 
were  introduced.  I  seated  myself  by  the  side  of 
Olympia,  and  staked  my  money  with  such  rashness 
that  she  could  not  help  paying  attention  to  it.  In 
a  few  minutes  I  won  a  hundred  or  a  hundred  and 
fifty  louis,  which  I  displayed  before  me,  and  on  which 
she  fixed  her  devouring  eyes. 

I  was  the  only  one  not  solely  preoccupied  with  the 
play  and  able  to  study  her.  Through  the  whole  night 
I  continued  to  win,  and  it  was  I  who  gave  her  money 
to  play  with,  for  she  had  lost  all  she  had  before  her, 
and  probably  all  she  possessed. 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  party  broke 
up.    I  had  won  300  louis. 

All  the  players  v;ere  already  below ;  I  alone 
remained  behind,  without  being  noticed,  for  I  was  not 
the  friend  of  any  of  the  company.  Olympia  herself 
lighted  the  staircase,  and  I  was  about  to  descend  like 
the  others,  when,  turning  towards  her,  I  said : 

"  I  must  speak  to  you." 

"  To-morrow,"  she  said. 

"  No,  now." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  You  shall  hear."  And  I  re-entered  the  apart- 
ment. 

217 


2i8     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  You  have  lost  ?  "  I  said  to  her. 

"  Yes." 

"  All  you  had  in  the  house  ?  "    She  hesitated. 

"  Come,  be  frank." 

"Well,  it's  true." 

"  I  have  won  300  louis  ;  they  are  yours,  if  you  will 
keep  me  here." 

And  at  the  same  time  I  threw  the  gold  on  the 
table. 

"  And  why  this  proposition  ?  " 

"  Because  I  love  you,  by  God  !  " 

"  No,  but  because  you  are  in  love  with  Marguerite, 
and  you  wish  to  revenge  yourself  upon  her  by  becom- 
ing my  lover.  You  cannot  deceive  a  woman  like 
me,  my  dear  friend  ;  unfortunately,  I  am  still  too 
young  and  too  pretty  for  it  to  be  necessary  for  me 
to  accept  the  part  you  propose  to  me." 

"  And  so  you  refuse  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Would  you  prefer  to  love  me  for  nothing  ?  In 
that  case,  I  should  not  accept.  Reflect,  m.y  dear 
Olympia  ;  I  might  have  sent  some  person  to  you 
to  propose  300  louis  on  my  part,  on  the  conditions  I 
have  mentioned,  and  you  would  have  accepted.  I 
have  preferred  treating  directly  with  you.  Accept, 
without  seeking  for  the  causes  which  induce  me  thus 
to  act  ;  think  that  you  are  beautiful,  and  that  there 
is  nothing  astonishing  in  my  being  in  love  with  you." 

Marguerite  was  a  courtesan  like  Olympia,  and 
yet  I  should  never  have  dared  to  say  to  her  the  first 
time  I  saw  her  what  I  had  said  to  this  woman.  For 
I  had  loved  Marguerite,  I  had  discovered  in  her 
instincts  entirely  wanting  in  this  creature,  and  at  the 
very  moment  in  which  I  proposed  these  terms, 
despite  her  extreme  beauty,  she  with  whom  I  was 
about  to  conclude  the  bargain  disgusted  me. 

She   finished,   of  course,   by   accepting,   and  by 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     219 

twelve  the  next  day  I  issued  from  her  apartments  as 
her  lover  ;  but  I  quitted  her  without  carrying  away 
with  me  the  remembrance  of  the  caresses  and  words 
of  love  she  had  thought  herself  obliged  to  bestow 
on  me  for  the  6,000  francs  I  had  left  her. 

And  yet  there  were  men  who  ruined  themselves 
for  this  woman ! 

From  this  day  I  subjected  Marguerite  to  one 
continued  persecution.  She  and  Olympia  ceased  their 
intimacy — you  can  imagine  why.  I  gave  my  new 
mistress  a  carriage  and  jewels  ;  I  gambled  ;  in  fact, 
I  committed  all  the  follies  suited  to  a  man  amorous 
of  a  woman  like  Olympia,  The  noise  of  my  new 
passion  soon  spread  about. 

Prudence  herself  was  caught  by  it,  and  finished  by 
thinking  that  I  had  completely  forgotten  Marguerite. 
The  latter,  whether  she  had  divined  the  motive  that 
urged  me  to  act  thus,  or  whether  she  was  deceived 
like  the  others,  replied  by  a  grand  dignity  to  the 
wounds  I  gave  her  daily  ;  nevertheless  she  appeared 
to  suffer,  for  whenever  I  met  her,  I  always  found 
her  paler  and  paler,  sadder  and  sadder.  My  love  for 
her,  exalted  to  that  degree  that  it  seemed  turned  to 
hatred,  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  this  continued  grief. 
Frequently,  under  circumstances  in  which  I  dis- 
played infamous  cruelty.  Marguerite  raised  towards 
me  looks  so  supplicating  that  I  blushed  at  the  part 
I  had  taken,  and  was  ready  to  demand  her  pardon 
for  it. 

But  these  repentances  had  the  duration  of  lightning 
only,  and  Olympia,  who  had  finished  by  throwing 
aside  all  appearance  of  respect,  and  felt  that  by 
injuring  Marguerite  she  would  obtain  from  me  all  she 
wished,  constantly  incited  me  against  her,  and 
insulted  her  every  time  she  found  an  opportunity, 
with  that  obstinate  baseness  of  a  woman  when 
encouraged  by  a  man. 


220     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Marguerite  at  length  no  longer  went  to  a  ball  or 
theatre,  from  the  fear  of  meeting  Olympia  and  me. 
Then,  anonymous  letters  succeeded  to  direct  im- 
pertinences, and  there  was  not  a  disgraceful  thing 
I  did  not  engage  my  mistress  to  recount,  and  which 
I  did  not  recount  myself,  of  Marguerite. 

I  must  have  been  mad  to  have  arrived  at  this. 
I  was  like  a  man  who,  having  got  drunk  on  bad  wine, 
falls  into  one  of  those  nervous  excitements  in  which 
the  hand  is  capable  of  a  crime,  without  the  brain 
having  anything  to  with  it.  In  the  midst  of  all  this,  I 
suffered  martyrdom.  The  calmness  without  disdain, 
the  dignity  without  contempt,  with  which  Mar- 
guerite replied  to  all  my  attacks,  and  which  to  my 
own  eyes  made  her  so  superior  to  me,  irritated  me 
still  more  against  her. 

One  evening  Olympia  had  gone  I  know  not  where, 
.  and  had  met  with  Marguerite,  who  this  time  had  not 
humbled  to  the  foolish  girl  who  insulted  her,  so  that 
the  latter  was  forced  to  yield  her  place.  Olympia 
had  returned  furious,  and  Marguerite  had  been 
carried  away  in  a  swoon. 

On  entering,  Olympia  narrated  what  had  taken 
place  ;  she  told  me  that  Marguerite,  seeing  her  alone, 
had  resolved  to  avenge  herself  for  her  being  my 
mistress  and  that  I  must  write  to  tell  her  to  respect, 
whether  I  was  present  or  not,  the  woman  I  loved. 

I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  consented,  and  that  all 
I  could  think  of  that  was  base  and  cruel  I  included 
in  this  epistle,  which  I  forwarded  the  same  day  to  its 
address. 

This  time  I  felt  certain  the  blow  was  too  strong 
for  the  unhappy  girl  to  support  without  saying 
anything. 

I  fully  expected  an  answer  to  arrive,  and  therefore 
resolved  not  to  stir  out  the  whole  day.  About  two 
o'clock  the  bell  rang,  and  I  saw  Prudence  enter. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     221 

I  endeavoured  to  assume  an  indifferent  air  whilst 
inquiring  as  to  what  I  was  indebted  for  her  visit  ; 
but  on  this  day  Madame  Duvernoy  was  not  in  a 
bantering  mood,  and  in  a  tone  seriously  alarmed  she 
told  me  that  since  my  return — namel3^  for  three 
weeks  nearly — I  had  never  allowed  one  opportunity  to 
escape  of  paining  Marguerite ;  that  she  was  ill  from 
it,  and  that  yesterday's  scene  and  my  letter  of  this 
morning  had  driven  her  to  bed.  To  be  brief,  without 
making  me  any  reproaches,  Marguerite  sent  for  me 
to  ask  for  a  cessation,  informing  me  that  she  had 
neither  moral  nor  physical  strength  to  support 
my  conduct. 

"  To  dismiss  me,"  I  said  to  Prudence,  "  Made- 
moiselle Gautier  had  a  perfect  right ;  but  that  she 
should  insult  the  woman  I  love,  under  pretence 
that  this  woman  is  my  mistress,  is  what  I  will  never 
permit." 

"  My  friend,"  said  Prudence,  "  you  submit  to 
the  influence  of  a  girl  who  has  neither  heart  nor  soul ; 
you  are  amorous  of  her,  it  is  true,  but  that  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  torture  a  woman  who  cannot  defend 
herself." 

"  Let  Mademoiselle  Gautier  send  me  her  Count  de 
N ,  and  the  party  will  be  equal." 

"  You  well  know  she  will  not  do  so.  Therefore,  my 
dear  Armand,  leave  her  tranquil  ;  if  you  could  but 
see  her,  you  would  be  asham.ed  of  the  way  in  v/hich  you 
conduct  yourself  towards  her.  She  is  pale  ;  she  has 
a  cough  ;  she  will  not  last  long  now." 

And  Prudence  tendered  me  her  hand,  adding  : 

"  Come  and  see  her  ;  your  visit  will  make  her 
very  happy." 

"  I  have  no  mind  to  encounter  M.  de  N /' 

"  M.  de  N is  never  with  her.     She  cannot 

bear  it." 

"  If  Marguerite  is  desirous  of  seeing  me,  she  knows 


222     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

where  I  live  ;  let  her  come,  but  as  for  me,  I  will 
never  put  my  foot  in  the  Rue  d'Antin." 

"  And  you  will  receive  her  Idndly  ?  " 

"  Quite  so." 

"  Well,  I  am  sure  she  will  come." 

"  Let  her  come," 

"  Shall  you  go  out  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  at  home  the  whole  evening." 

"  I  will  tell  her  so."    And  Prudence  departed. 

I  did  not  even  write  to  Olympia  that  I  should  not 
come  to  see  her.  I  stood  on  no  ceremony  with  this 
girl ;  I  scarcely  saw  her  on  one  night  in  the  week. 
She  consoled  herself  for  this,  I  believe,  with  an  actor 
of  one  of  the  Boulevard  theatres. 

I  went  out  to  dine,  and  returned  almost  immedi- 
ately. I  had  fires  lighted  everywhere,  and  dismissed 
Joseph. 

I  could  not  render  you  an  account  of  the  different 
impressions  that  agitated  me  during  a  whole  hour 
of  waiting  ;  but  when  about  nine  o'clock  I  heard 
the  bell  ring,  they  resolved  themselves  into  such  an 
emotion,  that  on  going  to  open  the  door  I  was  forced 
to  lean  against  the  wall  to  support  myself.  Lucidly 
the  anteroom  was  in  partial  obscurity,  so  that  the 
change  in  my  features  was  less  visible.  Marguerite 
entered.  She  was  wholly  in  black,  and  veiled.  I 
could  scarcely  recognise  her  face  beneath  the  lace. 
She  passed  into  the  salon  and  lifted  her  veil.  She 
was  as  pale  as  possible. 

"  I  am  come,  Armand,"  she  said  ;  "  you  wished 
to  see  me — I  am  here." 

And,  dropping  her  head  on  her  two  hands,  she 
burst  into  tears.    I  approached  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  I  said,  in  an 
agitated  tone. 

She  pressed  my  hand  without  repl5dng,  for  the 
tears  still  choked  her  voice.     But  a  few  minutes 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     223 

after,  having  recovered  a  little  calmness,  she  said  to 
me : 

"  You  have  done  me  much  injury,  Armand,  but 
I  never  did  you  any." 

"  None  ?  "  I  replied,  \vith  a  bitter  smile. 

"  Nothing  but  what  circumstances  forced  me 
to  do." 

I  know  not  whether  in  the  course  of  your  life  you 
have  ever  felt,  or  ever  will  feel,  what  I  experienced  at 
the  sight  of  Marguerite.  The  last  time  she  had  visited 
me  she  had  seated  herself  at  the  same  spot  she  now 
occupied,  but,  since  that  period,  she  had  become 
the  mistress  of  another  ;  other  kisses  than  mine  had 
pressed  those  lips  to  which,  despite  myself,  mine 
were  attracted  ;  and  yet  I  felt  that  I  loved  this  woman 
as  much,  and  perhaps  more,  than  I  had  ever  loved 
her.  Still  it  was  difficult  for  me  to  lead  the  conversa- 
tion on  to  the  subject  of  her  visit.  Marguerite,  no 
doubt,  comprehended  this,  for  she  resumed  : 

"  I  am  come  to  weary  you,  Armand,  because  I  have 
two  things  to  ask  of  you — pardon  for  what  I  did 
yesterday  to  Mademoiselle  Olympia,  and  a  cessation 
of  what  you  are  perhaps  prepared  to  continue  still. 
Voluntarily  or  not,  since  your  return,  you  have  so 
wounded  me  that  I  shall  be  incapable  of  supporting 
a  quarter  of  the  emotions  I  have  hitherto  supported. 
You  will  have  pity  on  me,  will  you  not,  and  you  will 
acknowledge  that  there  are  for  a  man  of  spirit  nobler 
things  to  do  than  to  revenge  himself  on  a  woman  ill 
and  grieved  as  I  am  ?  There,  take  my  hand.  I  am 
in  a  fever  ;  I  have  quitted  my  bed  to  ask  of  you,  not 
your  friendship,  but  your  indifference." 

I  took  the  hand  of  Marguerite.  It  was  burning, 
and  the  poor  girl  shivered  beneath  her  velvet  mantle. 
I  rolled  the  chair  on  which  she  was  seated  close  to 
the  fire. 

"  And  do  you  believe  then  that  I  did  not  suffer," 


224     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  replied,  "  the  night  when,  after  awaiting  you  in  the 
country,  I  came  to  seek  you  at  Paris,  when  I  found 
only  this  letter  which  nearly  drove  me  mad  ?  How 
could  you  deceive  me,  Marguerite,  I  who  loved  you 
so?" 

"  Speak  not  of  that,  Armand  ;  I  am  not  come  to 
speak  of  it,  I  wished  to  see  you  otherwise  than  as 
an  enemy,  nothing  more  ;  and  I  wished  to  press 
your  hand  once  again.  You  have  a  mistress,  young, 
pretty,  whom  you  love,  it  is  said  ;  be  happy  with 
her,  and  forget  me." 

"  And  you — you  are  happy,  no  doubt  ?  " 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  happy  woman,  Armand  ?  Do 
not  mock  my  grief  ;  you  who  know  better  than  any- 
one its  cause  and  extent." 

"  It  only  depended  on  yourself  not  to  be  unhappy, 
if,  indeed,  you  are  as  you  say." 

"  No,  my  friend,  circumstances  were  stronger  than 
my  will.  I  obeyed,  not  my  sentiments  as  a  girl,  as 
you  seem  to  infer,  but  a  serious  necessity  and  reasons 
that  you  shall  one  day  know,  and  which  will  make 
you  pardon  me." 

'■'  Why  do  you  not  tell  me  these  reasons  to-day  ?  " 

"  Because  they  would  not  re-establish  an  im- 
possible reconciliation  between  us ;  and  would 
probably  separate  you  from  persons  from  whom 
you  ought  not  to  separate." 

"  Who  are  these  persons  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  now." 

"  Then  you  lie  ?  " 

Marguerite  rose  and  went  towards  the  door. 

I  could  not  witness  this  silent  and  expressive 
grief  without  being  moved,  when  I  compared  to 
myself  this  pale  and  weeping  wom.an  to  the  little 
madcap  who  laughed  at  me  at  the  Opera  Comique. 

"  You  shall  not  go,"  I  said,  placing  myself  before 
the  door. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     225 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  in  spite  of  what  you  have  done  to  me, 
I  still  love  you,  and  I  will  keep  you  here." 

"  To  drive  me  away  to-morrow,  perhaps.  No — 
'tis  impossible.  Our  two  destinies  are  separated — 
strive  not  to  reunite  them ;  you  will  despise  me. 
perhaps,  whereas  now  you  can  but  hate  me." 

"  No,  Marguerite,"  I  cried,  feeling  all  my  love 
and  all  my  desires  once  more  aroused  at  the  conduct 
of  this  woman.  "  No,  I  will  forget  all,  and  we  will 
be  as  happy  as  we  had  promised  ourselves  to  be." 

Marguerite  shook  her  head  in  sign  of  doubt,  but  said : 

"  Am  I  not  your  slave — your  dog  ?  Do  with  me 
as  you  like — take  me — I  am  yours." 

And  taking  off  her  cloak  and  bonnet  she  threw 
them  on  the  sofa,  and  began  to  unfasten  abruptly 
the  corsage  of  her  dress  ;  for  by  one  of  those  reactions 
— now  become  so  frequent — of  her  illness,  the  blood 
rushed  from  her  heart  to  her  head,  and  stifled  her. 

A  dry,  hard  cough  succeeded. 

"  Tell  my  coachman,"  she  resumed,  "  to  take  back 
my  carriage," 

I  went  down  to  dismiss  the  servant. 

When  I  returned.  Marguerite  was  stretched  before 
the  fire,  and  her  teeth  chattered  with  cold. 

I  took  her  in  my  arms,  undressed  her  without 
making  a  movement,  and  carried  her,  cold  as  ice,  to 
the  bed.  I  then  took  a  seat  near  her,  and  endeavoured 
to  warm  her  with  my  caresses.  She  said  not  a  word 
to  me,  but  smiled. 

Oh  !  this  was  a  strange  night.  Marguerite's  whole 
life  passed  into  the  kisses  with  which  she  covered  me, 
and  I  loved  her  so,  that  amidst  the  transports  of  my 
feverish  passion,  I  asked  myself  if  I  should  not  kill 
her,  that  she  might  never  belong  to  another. 

A  month  of  such  love  as  this,  of  the  body  as  of  the 
heart,  and  one  would  become  a  corpse. 

H 


226     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Daylight  found  us  both  awake. 

Marguerite  was  livid.  She  spoke  not  a  word. 
Big  tears  rolled  occasionally  from  her  eyes,  and 
rested  on  her  cheeks,  brilliant  as  diamonds.  Her 
listless  arms  opened  at  times  to  seize  me,  and  fell 
exhausted  on  the  bed. 

For  a  moment  I  thought  I  could  forget  what  had 
passed  since  my  departure  from  Bougival,  and  I  said 
to  Marguerite,  "  Shall  we  go  away  ;  shall  we  q'lit 
Paris  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  almost  with  fear,  "  we  should 
be  too  unhappy.  I  can  no  longer  conduce  to  your 
happiness,  but,  as  long  as  a  breath  remains  to  me,  I 
will  be  the  slave  of  your  caprices.  At  whatever  hour 
of  the  day  or  night  you  wish  for  me,  come  ;  I  will  be 
yours — but  do  not  unite  your  future  with  mine  ;  you 
would  be  too  miserable,  and  you  would  render  me 
too  wretched.  I  am  still,  for  some  time,  a  pretty  girl 
— make  the  most  of  it,  but  ask  me  for  nothing  more." 

When  she  had  gone,  I  was  overcome  with  the 
solitude  to  which  she  had  left  me.  Two  hours  after 
her  departure,  I  was  still  seated  on  the  bed  she  had 
quitted,  contemplating  the  pillow  that  retained  the 
impression  of  her  form,  and  asking  myself  what  would 
become  of  me  between  my  love  and  my  jealousy. 

At  five  o'clock,  without  even  knowing  what  I  was 
about,  I  repaired  to  the  Rue  d'Antin.  It  was  Nanine 
who  opened  to  me. 

"  Madame  cannot  receive  j'ou,"  she  said,  with 
embarrassment. 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  the  Count  de  N is  here,  and  he  has 

forbidden  me  to  allow  anyone  to  enter." 

"  Quite  right,"  I  stammered,  "  I  had  forgotten." 

I  returned  home  like  a  drunken  man,  and  do  you 
know  what  I  did  during  the  moment  of  delirious 
jealousy  that  sufficed  for  the  execution  of  the  base 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     227 

action  I  was  about  to  commit  ?  Do  you  know  what  I 
did  ?  I  said  to  myself  that  this  woman  sported  with 
me  ;  I  represented  her  to  myself,  in  her  secret  tete-^- 
tete  with  the  Count,  repeating  the  same  words  she 
had  spoken  to  me  during  the  night,  and,  taking  a  note 
of  five  hundred  francs,  I  sent  it  to  her  with  these 
words  : 

"  You  left  so  hurriedly  this  morning  that  I  forgot 
to  pay  you.  I  enclose  the  compliment  for  your  com- 
pany last  night." 

Then,  when  the  letter  had  gone,  I  went  out  as  if 
to  escape  from  the  instantaneous  remorse  of  this  act 
of  infamy. 

I  went  to  Olympia's,  whom  I  found  trying  on  some 
dresses,  and  v/ho,  when  we  were  alone,  sang  some 
obscenities  to  distract  me. 

This  girl  was  undoubtedly  the  type  of  the  courtesan, 
without  shame,  without  heart,  without  mind — for  me, 
at  least,  as  perhaps  some  man  had  had  the  same 
dream  with  her,  as  I  had  had  with  respect  to  Mar- 
guerite. 

She  asked  me  for  moneyj;  I  gave  it  to  her,  and 
then,  free  to  depart,  I  returned  home. 

Marguerite  had  not  replied  to  me.  It  is  useless  to 
tell  you  in  what  agitation  I  passed  the  rest  of  the  day. 
At  half-past  six,  a  messenger  brought  me  an  envelope 
containing  my  letter  and  five  hundred  franc  note, 
without  a  word  more. 

"  Who  gave  you  this  ?  "  I  said  to  the  man. 

"  A  lady  who  was  leaving  with  her  femme  de 
chamhre,  in  the  Boulogne  mail,  and  who  requested  me 
not  to  bring  it  till  the  coach  was  out  of  the  yard." 

I  hastened  to  Marguerite's. 

"  Madame  departed  for  England  at  six  o'clock 
this  evening,"  replied  the  porter. 

There  was  nothing  to  retain  me  longer  in  Paris, 
neither  love  nor  hatred.     I  was  exhausted  by  all 


228     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

these  shocks.  One  of  my  friends  was  about  to  make 
a  voyage  to  the  East  ;  I  mentioned  to  my  father 
my  wish  to  accompany  him — my  father  gave  me  the 
necessary  introductions,  and  eight  or  ten  days  after- 
wards I  embarked  at  Marseilles. 

It  was  at  Alexandria  that  I  learned  from  an 
attach^  of  the  embassy,  whom  1  had  occasionally 
seen  at  Marguerite's,  the  illness  of  the  poor  girl. 

I  then  wrote  the  letter  to  which  she  sent  the  reply 
you  are  aware  of,  and  which  I  received  at  Toulon. 

I  started  immediately,  and  you  know  the  rest. 

It  now  remains  for  you  to  read  the  few  pages 
that  Julie  Duprat  delivered  to  me,  and  which  are 
the  indispensable  sequel  of  what  I  have  narrated  to 
you. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Armand,  fatigued  v/ith  his  long  recital,  interrupted 
by  his  tears,  placed  his  two  hands  over  his  fore- 
head, and  closed  his  eyes,  either  to  muse  or  to  en- 
deavour to  sleep,  after  giving  me  the  pages  written 
by  the  hand  of  Marguerite. 

A  few  moments  after,  a  respiration  rather  more 
rapid  told  me  that  Armand  slept,  but  a  sleep  so  light 
that  the  faintest  sound  drove  it  away. 

What  I  read  was  as  follows  ;  it  has  been  transcribed 
without  adding  a  syllable : 

To-day  is  the  15th  of  December.  I  have  been 
suffering  for  the  last  two  or  three  days.  This  morning 
I  took  to  my  bed  ;  the  weather  is  gloomy,  and  I  am 
sad  ;  no  one  is  near  me.  I  think  of  you,  Armand. 
And  you,  where  are  you  at  the  hour  I  write  these 
few  lines  ?  Far  from  Paris,  very  far,  I  am  told  ; 
and  perhaps  you  have  already  forgotten  Marguerite. 
However  be  happy,  you  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for 
the  only  moments  of  joy  during  my  whole  life. 

I  could  not  resist  the  desire  of  giving  you  an 
explanation  of  my  conduct,  and  I  had  written  you  a 
letter  ;  but  written  by  a  girl  like  me,  such  a  letter 
might  be  regarded  as  a  lie,  unless  death  should  give 
it  the  sanction  of  its  authority,  and,  instead  of 
being  a  letter,  it  became  a  confession. 

To-day  I  am  ill ;  I  may  die  of  this  illness,  for  I 
always  had  a  presentim.ent  that  I  should  die  young. 

229 


230     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

My  mother  died  of  consumption  ;  and  the  manner 
in  which  I  have  Hved  hitherto  could  but  encourage 
the  disease — the  only  inheritance  she  left  me  ;  but 
I  will  not  die  without  enabling  you  to  judge  me 
rightly,  if  indeed,  when  you  return,  you  still  think 
of  the  poor  girl  you  so  loved  before  your  depar- 
ture. 

The  following  were  the  contents  of  that  letter, 
which  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  write  over  again,  to 
give  myself  fresh  proofs  of  my  justification  : 

You  remember,  Armand,  how  the  arrival  of  your 
father  surprised  us  at  Bougival  ;  you  remember  the 
involuntary  terror  which  that  arrival  caused  me, 
and  the  scene  that  followed  between  you  and  him,  and 
which  you  recounted  to  me  in  the  evening. 

The  next  day,  whilst  you  were  at  Paris,  and  waited 
for  your  father,  who  did  not  return,  a  man  introduced 
himself  to  me,  and  delivered  me  a  letter  from  M. 
Duval. 

That  letter,  which  I  enclose  in  this,  begged  me  in 
the  most  serious  terms  to  send  you  out  of  the  way 
the  next  day  under  some  excuse,  and  to  receive  your 
father  ;  he  wished  to  speak  with  me,  and  requested 
me  particularly  to  say  nothing  to  you  of  this  step. 

You  know  with  what  persistence  I  advised  you  on 
your  return  to  go  to  Paris  the  next  day. 

You  had  departed  about  an  hour  when  your  father 
presented  himself.  I  will  spare  you  the  impression 
his  severe  features  caused  me.  Your  father  was 
imbued  with  the  old  theories,  which  assert  that  every 
courtesan  is  a  being  without  heart,  without  reason, 
a  species  of  machine  to  be  bought  with  gold,  always 
ready  like  machines  of  iron  to  wound  the  hand  that 
offers  it  anything,  and  to  destroy  without  pity, 
without  discernment,  the  one  who  makes  it  live 
and  act. 

Your  father  had  written  me  a  very  respectful 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     231 

letter  seeking  for  my  consent  to  see  him  ;  but  he  did 
not  present  himself  precisely  as  he  had  written. 
There  was  sufficient  hauteur,  impertinence,  and  even 
threats  in  his  first  words,  to  urge  me  to  remark  to  him 
that  I  was  in  my  own  house,  and  that  I  had  no 
account  to  render  him  of  my  life  but  for  the  sincere 
affection  I  had  for  his  son. 

M.  Duval  calmed  himself  a  little,  but  still  said  to 
me  that  he  could  no  longer  permit  his  son  to  ruin 
himself  for  me  ;  that  I  was  beautiful,  it  was  true, 
but  that  beautiful  as  I  was,  I  ought  not  to  make  use 
of  my  beauty  to  destroy  the  future  of  a  young  man 
by  expenses  such  as  those  which  I  incurred. 

To  this,  you  wHl  agree  with  me,  there  was  but  one 
thing  to  reply,  and  this  was,  to  exhibit  the  proofs  that 
since,  I  had  been  your  mistress  no  sacrifice  on  my 
part  had  been  too  great  in  order  to  remain  faithful  to 
you  without  asking  you  for  more  money  than  you 
could  give  me.  I  showed  him  the  pawnbroker's 
tickets,  the  receipts  of  the  persons  to  whom  I  had 
sold  the  articles,  which  I  had  been  unable  to  pledge. 
I  told  your  father  of  my  resolution  to  part  with  my 
furniture  to  pay  my  debts,  and  to  live  with  you 
without  being  too  heavy  a  burden  to  you.  I  recounted 
to  him  our  happiness,  the  revelation  you  had  given 
me  of  a  more  tranquil  and  happy  life,  and  he 
finished  by  yielding  to  the  evidence,  tendering  me  his 
hand,  and  asking  my  pardon  for  the  manner  in  which 
he  had  first  conducted  himself. 

He  now  said  to  me  : 

•'  Then,  madame,  it  is  not  by  remonstrances  and 
threats,  but  by  prayers,  I  shall  endeavour  to  obtain 
from  you  a  sacrifice  greater  than  all  those  you  have 
hitherto  m.ade  for  my  son." 

I  trembled  at  this  preamble.  Your  father  drew 
nearer  to  me,  took  both  my  hands,  and  continued  in 
an  affectionate  tone  : 


232     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  My  child,  do  not  take  in  bad  part  what  I  am 
about  to  say  to  you  ;  understand  simply  that  life 
has  at  times  cruel  necessities  for  the  heart,  but  that 
we  must  submit  to  them.  You  are  good,  and  your 
heart  has  generosities  unknown  to  many  women, 
who  perhaps  despise  you  and  know  not  your  value. 
But  reflect  that,  besides  the  mistress,  there  is  the 
family  ;  that  besides  love  there  are  duties  ;  that  to 
the  age  of  passions  succeeds  the  age  when  the  man, 
to  be  respected,  requires  to  be  firmly  seated  in  a 
serious  position.  My  son  has  no  fortune,  and  yet 
he  is  ready  to  abandon  to  you  the  inheritance  he 
derives  from  his  mother.  If  he  accepted  from 
you  the  sacrifice  you  are  on  the  point  of  making, 
he  would  be  bound,  both  in  honour  and  dignity, 
to  make  for  you,  in  exchange,  that  provision 
which  would  place  you  for  ever  beyond  complete 
adversity.  But  this  sacrifice  he  cannot  accept, 
because  the  world,  which  does  not  know  you,  would 
give  to  this  consent  a  dishonest  motive,  which  ought 
not  to  sully  the  name  we  bear.  It  will  not  inquire 
if  Armand  loves  you — if  you  love  him — if  this  mutual 
love  is  a  happiness  for  him  and  a  re-establishment 
for  you  ;  it  will  see  but  one  thing,  that  Armand  Duval 
has  suffered  a  courtesan — pardon  me,  my  child,  all 
that  I  am  forced  to  say  to  you — to  sell  for  him  all 
she  possessed.  Then  the  day  of  reproaches  and  re- 
grets will  arrive,  be  sure  of  it,  for  you  as  for  others, 
and  you  will  both  of  you  bear  a  chain  that  you  will 
be  unable  to  break.  What  will  you  then  do  ?  Your 
youth  will  be  fled,  the  future  of  my  son  will  be 
destroyed,  and  I,  his  father,  shall  have  from  only 
one  of  my  children  the  comfort  I  had  hoped  for 
from  both. 

"  You  are  young,  you  are  handsome,  life  will  con- 
sole you  ;  you  are  noble,  and  the  remembrance  of  a 
good  action  will  redeem  for  you  many  a  past  deed. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     233 

During  the  six  months  he  has  known  you,  Armand 
has  forgotten  me.  Four  times  I  have  written  to 
him,  without  his  having  a  thought  of  replying  to 
me.    I  might  even  have  died  without  his  knowing  it. 

"  Whatever  may  be  your  resolution  to  live  other- 
wise than  you  have  done,  Armand,  who  loves  you, 
will  not  consent  to  the  seclusion  to  which  his  modest 
position  will  condemn  you,  and  which  is  not  made  for 
your  beauty.  Who  knows  what  he  will  do  then  ? 
He  has  gambled — this  I  knew  ;  without  saying  any- 
thing to  you,  I  know  that,  too  ;  but,  in  a  moment  of 
madness,  he  might  lose  a  portion  of  those  savings 
which  I  have  been  making,  for  many  years,  as  the 
dower  of  my  daughter,  for  him,  and  for  the  tran- 
quillity of  my  old  age.  What  may  happen  once  may 
happen  twice. 

_"  Are  you  sure,  too,  that  the  life  you  quit  for  him 
will  not  again  attract  you  ?  Are  you  sure — you  who 
have  loved  him — of  not  having  another  lover  ?  Will 
you  not  discover  fetters  which  your  connection  will 
have  placed  on  the  life  of  your  lover,  and  for  which  you 
will  be  unable  to  console  him,  perhaps,  if,  with  age, 
ideas  of  ambition  succeed  to  dreams  of  love  ?  Re- 
flect on  all  this,  Madame.  You  love  Armand  ;  prove 
it  by  the  only  means  that  now  remain  to  you — by 
offering  to  his  future  the  sacrifice  of  your  love.  No 
harm  is  done  as  yet,  but  harm  will  come,  and  perhaps 
greater  than  what  I  foresee.  Armand  may  become 
jealous  of  a  man  who  has  loved  you  ;  he  may  provoke 
him — he  may  fight — he  may  be  slain  ;  and  think 
what  you  will  suffer  at  sight  of  that  father,  who  will 
demand  of  you  an  account  of  his  son's  life. 

"  Lastly,  my  child,  know  all — for  I  have  not  told 
you  all.  Know,  then,  what  has  brought  me  to  Paris. 
I  have  a  daughter,  as  I  have  before  mentioned, 
young,  pretty,  and  pure  as  an  angel.  She  loves  ;  and 
she.  too,  has  made  of  this  love  the  dream  of  her  life. 


234     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  Lad  written  all  this  to  Armand,  but,  wholly  occupied 
with  you,  he  has  not  replied  to  me.  Well,  my  daughter 
is  about  to  be  married.  She  weds  the  man  she  loves  ; 
she  enters  into  an  honourable  family  that  expects 
all  shall  be  honourable  in  mine.  The  family  of  the 
man  who  is  to  become  my  son-in-law  have  learned 
how  Armand  is  living  in  Paris,  and  have  declared  to 
me  that  they  must  withdraw  their  pledge  if  Armand 
continues  his  present  life.  The  future  of  a  young 
girl  who  has  done  nothing  to  you,  and  who 
has  a  right  to  count  upon  the  future,  is  in  your 
hands. 

"  Have  you  the  right,  and  do  you  feel  the  strength 
to  ruin  it  ?  In  the  name  of  your  love  and  of  your 
repentance.  Marguerite,  accord  to  me  the  happiness 
of  my  daughter," 

I  wept  silently,  my  friend,  before  all  these  re- 
flections, which  I  had  made  very  often,  and  which, 
in  the  mouth  of  your  father,  acquired  again  a  more 
serious  reality.  I  told  myself  all  that  your  father 
hesitated  to  tell  me,  though  twenty  times  it  had 
come  upon  his  lips,  that  I  was,  after  all,  but  a  girl 
under  protection,  and  that  whatever  reason  I  may 
offer  for  our  liaison,  it  would  always  have  the  air 
of  a  calculation  ;  that  my  past  life  gave  me  no  right 
to  dream  of  such  a  future  ;  and  that  I  had  accepted 
responsibilities,  to  which  my  habits  and  my  reputa- 
tion gave  no  guarantee  whatever.  At  length  I  loved 
you,  Armand.  The  paternal  manner  in  which  M. 
Duval  spoke  to  me,  the  chaste  feeling  which  he 
invoked  in  me,  the  esteem  of  this  loyal  old  man  whom 
I  was  about  to  conquer,  yours,  which  I  was  sure  of 
having  later — all  this  awoke  in  my  heart  noble 
thoughts,  which  elevated  me  in  my  own  eyes,  and 
caused  holy  vanities  to  be  within  me,  unknown  up  to 
that  time.  When  I  remembered  that  some  day  this 
old  man,  who  had  implored  of  me  the  future  of  his 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     235 

son,  would  tell  his  daughter  to  mix  my  name  in  her 
prayers,  like  the  name  of  a  mysterious  friend,  I  was 
transformed,  and  I  was  proud  of  myself. 

The  exaltation  of  the  moment  exaggerated,  per- 
haps, the  truth  of  these  impressions ;  but  that  is  what 
I  experienced,  and  these  new  feelings  silenced  those 
thoughts  which  brought  me  the  remembrance  of  the 
happy  days  passed  with  you, 

"  Very  well.  Monsieur,"  said  I  to  your  father 
drying  my  tears,  "  do  you  believe  that  I  love  your 
son  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  M.  Duval. 

"  With  a  disinterested  love  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  believe  that  I  had  made  of  this  affection 
the  hope,  the  dream,  and  the  pardon  of  my  life  ?  " 

"  Firmly." 

"  Well,  Monsieur,  embrace  me  once  as  you  would 
embrace  your  daughter,  and  I  swear  to  you  that 
that  kiss,  the  sole  really  chaste  one  v/hich  I  have 
received,  will  make  me  strong  against  my  love,  and 
that  before  eight  days  your  son  will  have  returned  to 
you,  perhaps  unhappy  for  some  tim.e,  but  cured  for 
ever." 

"  You  are  a  noble  girl,"  replied  your  father, 
kissing  me  on  the  forehead,  "  and  you  attempt  a 
thing  of  which  God  will  keep  an  account ;  but  I 
greatly  fear  that  you  will  obtain  nothing  from  my 
son." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  yourself.  Monsieur ;  he  will 
hate  me." 

It  was  necessary  to  have  an  impassable  barrier 
between  us,  for  the  one  as  for  the  other. 

I  wrote  to  Prudence  that  I  accepted  the  pro- 
positions of  the  Count  de  N ,  and  that  she  was  to 

go  and  say  to  him  that  I  would  sup  with  her  and 
him. 


236     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  sealed  the  letter,  and,  without  telling  him  what 
it  contained,  I  prayed  your  father  to  have  it  de- 
livered at  its  address  on  arriving  at  Paris. 

He,  nevertheless,  asked  me  what  it  contained. 

"  The  happiness  of  your  son,"  I  answered.  Your 
father  embraced  me  for  the  last  time.  I  felt  upon  my 
forehead  two  tears  of  gratitude,  which  were  like  the 
baptism,  of  my  past  faults,  and  at  the  moment  when  I 
had  just  consented  to  give  myself  up  to  another  man, 
I  glowed  with  pride,  on  thinking  of  what  I  redeemed 
by  this  new  sin. 

It  was  very  natural,  Armand  ;  you  had  told  me  that 
your  father  was  the  most  honest  man  that  one  could 
imagine. 

M.  Duval  re-entered  the  carnage  and  went  away. 

Nevertheless,  I  was  a  woman,  and  when  I  again 
saw  you,  I  could  not  prevent  myself  from  crying,  but 
I  did  not  falter. 

Have  I  done  right  ?  That  is  what  I  ask  myself 
to-day,  when,  in  illness,  I  take  to  a  bed  which  I  shall 
not  perhaps  leave  alive. 

You  were  a  witness  of  what  I  suffered  as  the  hour 
approached  for  our  inevitable  separation  ;  your  father 
was  no  longer  there  to  support  me,  and  there  was  a 
moment  when  I  was  very  near  avowing  all  to  you,  so 
much  was  I  overpowered  with  the  idea  that  you  were 
about  to  hate  and  despise  me. 

One  thing  which  you  will  not,  perhaps,  believe, 
Armand,  is  that  I  prayed  to  God  to  give  me  strength  ; 
and  that  He  accepted  my  sacrifice  is  proved  by  His 
granting  me  that  strength  which  I  implored. 

At  that  supper  I  still  required  assistance ;  I 
dared  not  think  upon  what  I  was  to  do,  so  much  did 
I  fear  my  courage  would  fail  me. 

Who  would  have  believed  that  I,  Marguerite 
Gautier,  should  suffer  so  much  at  the  single  thought 
of  a  new  lover. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     237 

I  drank  freely  in  order  to  forget,  and  when  I  awoke 
the  next  day,  I  was  with  the  Count. 

There  is  the  entire  truth,  friend  ;  judge  and  pardon 
me,  as  I  have  pardoned  you  all  the  evil  which  you 
have  done  me  since  that  day. 


fS^Si 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

What  followed  that  fatal  night,  you  know  as  well 
as  I  do  ;  but  that  which  you  do  not  know,  which  you 
could  have  no  suspicion  of,  is  what  I  have  suffered 
since  our  separation. 

I  had  learned  that  your  father  had  taken  you  away ; 
but  I  very  much  doubted  whether  you  could  live  long 
far  from  me,  and  on  the  day  when  I  encountered  you 
in  the  Champs  Elysees  I  was  moved,  but  not  aston- 
ished. 

Then  commenced  the  series  of  days  of  v/hich  each 
one  brought  me  a  new  insult  from  you,  an  insult  which 
I  received  almost  with  joy  ;  because,  besides  the  proof 
which  it  furnished  that  you  still  loved  me,  it  appeared 
to  me  that  the  more  you  persecuted  me  the  higher 
I  should  be  raised  in  your  eyes  when  you  knew  the 
whole  truth. 

Do  not  be  astonished  at  this  joyous  martyrdom, 
Armand  ;  the  love  which  you  had  for  me  had  opened 
my  heart  to  noble  enthusiasm. 

However,  I  was  not  so  strong  quite  suddenly.  Be- 
tween the  execution  of  the  sacrifice  which  I  had  made 
and  your  return,  a  long  enough  space  of  time  had 
elapsed,  during  which  I  found  it  necessary  to  have 
recourse  to  physical  means,  in  order  not  to  become 
mad,  and  to  enable  me  to  harden  myself  to  the  life  I 
had  entered  upon.  Prudence  has  told  you — ^lias  she 
not  ? — that  I  was  present  at  every  fete,  at  all  the 
balls,  at  all  the  orgies. 

I  hoped  to  kill  myself  rapidly  by  means  of  excesses, 

238 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     239 

and  I  believe  this  wish  will  ere  long  be  realised.  My 
health  necessarily  altered  for  the  worse,  and  on 
the  day  when  I  sent  Madame  Duvernoy  to  ask 
your  pardon,  I  was  exhausted  both  bodily  and 
mentally. 

I  do  not  remind  you,  Armand,  in  what  manner  you 
recompensed  the  last  proof  of  love  which  I  gave  to 
you,  and  by  what  outrage  you  drove  from  Paris  the 
woman,  who,  dying,  was  not  able  to  resist  your 
voice  ;  you  asked  of  her  a  night  of  love,  and  she, 
like  a  mad  person,  believed  for  an  instant  that  she 
could  reunite  the  past  and  the  present.  You  had 
the  right  to  do  what  you  have  done.  Armand,  I 
have  not  always  had  my  nights  paid  for  so  dearly  ! 

I  left  everything  then  !     Olympia  replaced  with 

me  M.  de  N ,  and  undertook,  I  have  been  told, 

to  let  him  know  the  motive  of  my  departure.    The 

Count  de  G was  in  London.    He  is  one  of  those 

men  who,  given  to  love  with  girls  like  myself,  but 
just  enough  importance  to  enable  them  to  pass  their 
time  agreeably,  remain  the  friends  of  those  women 
with  whom  they  have  had  to  do,  and  have  no  hatred, 
never  having  been  jealous  ;  he  is,  in  fact,  one  of  those 
great  lords  who  open  to  us  but  one  side  of  their  heart, 
but  who  open  to  us  both  sides  of  their  purse.  I 
thought  of  him  directly.  I  went  to  rejoin  him.  He 
received  me  charmingly,  but  he  was  the  lover  over 
there  of  a  lady  in  society,  and  feared  to  compromise 
himself  by  appearing  in  public  with  me.  He  pre- 
sented me  to  his  friends,  who  gave  me  a  supper,  after 
which  one  of  them  took  me  home  with  him. 

What  would  you  have  had  me  do,  my  friend  ? 

Kill  myself  ?  This  would  have  been  to  charge  upon 
your  life,  which  ought  to  be  happy,  a  useless  remorse  ; 
besides,  what  is  the  good  of  killing  one's  self  when 
one  is  so  near  dying  ? 

I  passed  into  that  state  of  body  without  soul,  of  a 


240     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

thing  without  thought.  For  some  time  I  Hved  this 
automaton-Hke  life  ;  then  I  returned  to  Paris  and 
inquired  after  you  ;  I  there  learned  that  you  had 
gone  away  on  a  long  voyage.  Nothing  could  sustain 
me  any  longer.  My  existence  again  became  what  it 
had  been  two  years  before  I  had  known  you.  I  at- 
tempted to  win  back  the  Duke,  but  I  had  wounded 
this  man  too  deeply,  and  old  men  are  not  patient, 
doubtless  because  they  see  that  they  are  not  eternal. 
Disease  gained  upon  me  day  by  day — I  was  pale, 
I  was  sad,  I  was  still  thinner.  Those  who  buy 
love,  examine  the  merchandise  before  selecting  it. 
There  were  in  Paris  women  in  better  health,  gayer  and 
stouter  than  I ;  I  was  forgotten  a  little.  There  is 
the  past  up  to  to-day. 

Now  I  am  altogether  ill.  I  have  written  to  the 
Duke  to  ask  money  of  him,  for  I  have  none,  and  my 
creditors  bring  in  their  bills  with  pitiless  avidity.  Will 
the  Duke  answer  me  ?  Why  are  you  not  in  Paris, 
Armand  ?  You  would  come  to  see  me,  and  your 
visits  would  console  me. 

20th  December. 

It  is  horrible  weather — ^it  snows — I  am  alone  at 
home.  For  three  days  I  have  been  seized  with  such 
a  fever  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  write  a  word  to 
you.  Nothing  new,  my  friend  ;  each  day  I  vaguely 
hope  for  a  letter  from  you,  but  one  does  not  come, 
and  perhaps  never  will  come.  Men  only  have  the 
strength  not  to  pardon.  The  Duke  has  not  answered 
me. 

Prudence  has  recommenced  her  journeys  to  the 
pawnbroker's. 

I  never  cease  to  spit  blood.  Oh,  you  would  be 
pained  if  you  were  to  see  me.  You  are  very  lucky 
in  being  under  a  hot  sky,  and  in  not  having  a  whole 
winter  of  ice  weighing  upon  your  chest.     To-day 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     241 

I  got  up  a  little,  and,  from  behind  the  blinds  of  my 
window,  I  saw  pass  to  and  fro  that  Paris  life  from 
which  I  feel  I  have  altogether  broken  off,  A  few 
acquaintances  passed  along  the  street,  rapidly, 
joyously,  indifferently.  Not  one  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
window.  However,  a  few  young  people  called 
to  inquire  after  me.  Once  before,  I  was  ill,  and  you, 
who  knew  me  not,  who  had  obtained  nothing  from 
me  but  impertinence  on  the  day  when  I  saw  you  for 
the  first  time,  you  came  to  ask  after  me  every  morning. 
Here  am  I,  ill  again.  We  have  passed  six  months  to- 
gether. I  have  had  for  you  as  much  love  as  the  heart 
of  woman  can  contain  and  give,  and  you  are  far 
away  ;  you  detest  me,  and  not  a  word  of  consolation 
comes  to  me  from  you.  But  it  is  chance  alone,  which 
is  the  cause  of  this  abandonment — I  am  certain  of 
it,  for  if  you  were  in  Paris  you  would  not  leave  my 
bedside  and  my  room. 

2^th  December. 
My  doctor  forbids  me  to  write  every  day.  In  fact, 
my  recollections  only  augment  the  fever  ;  but  yester- 
day, I  received  a  letter  which  has  done  me  good,  more 
from  the  feelings  which  it  expressed  than  the  material 
succour  which  it  brought  me.  I  can,  therefore,  write 
to  you  to-day.  This  letter  was  from  your  father, 
and  here  is  what  it  contained  : 

"  Madame. — I  have  this  moment  learnt  that  you 
are  ill.  If  I  were  in  Paris,  I  would  myself  hasten  to 
inquire  after  you  ;   if  my  son  were  near  me  I  would 

beg  of  him  to  go  ;   but  I  cannot  leave  C ,  and 

Armand  is  six  or  seven  hundred  leagues  away  from 
here.  Permit  me,  therefore,  Madame,  to  write  to  you, 
and  say  how  much  I  am  pained  by  this  illness  ;  and 
believe  in  the  sincere  wishes  which  I  express  for  your 
prompt  recovery. 


242     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

"  One  of  my  best  friends,  M.  H ,  will  present 

himself  at  your  house  ;  be  good  enough  to  receive 
him.  He  is  charged  by  me  with  a  commission,  oi 
which  I  impatiently  wait  the  result. 

"  Accept,  Madame,"  etc. 

Such  is  the  letter  which  I  received.  Your  father 
has  a  noble  heart ;  love  him  well,  my  friend  ;  for  there 
are  few  men  in  the  world  so  well  worthy  of  being 
loved.  This  paper,  signed  with  his  name,  has  done 
me  more  good  then  all  the  ordinances  of  our  great 
doctor. 

This  morning  M.  H came.    He  appeared  much 

embarrassed  with  the  delicate  mission  with  which 
M.  Duval  had  charged  him.  He  came  to  bring  me  a 
thousand  crowns  on  the  part  of  your  father.    I  wished 

to  refuse  these  at  first,  but  M.  H told  me  that 

this  refusal  would  offend  M.  Duval,  who  had  author- 
ised him  to  give  me  this  sum  now,  and  to  supply 
me  with  all  that  I  might  want  afterwards.  I  accepted 
this  service,  which  on  the  part  of  your  father  could 
not  be  a  charity.  If  I  am  dead  when  you  return, 
show  your  father  what  I  have  just  written  respecting 
him,  and  say  that  when  tracing  these  lines,  the  poor 
girl  to  whom  he  wrote  that  consoling  letter  shed 
tears  of  gratitude,  and  prayed  God  for  him. 

4ih  January. 

I  have  just  passed  a  number  of  very  painful  days. 
I  did  not  know  that  the  body  could  suffer  so  much. 
Oh  !  my  past  life  !  I  pay  its  penalty  doubly  at  this 
moment. 

I  have  had  watchers  beside  me  every  night.  I 
could  not  breathe.  Delirium  and  this  fearful  cough 
have  shared  my  wretched  existence. 

My  dining-room  is  full  of  bonbons  and  presents 
of  all  sorts,  which  my  friends  have  brought  me.   There 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     24J 

are  among  these,  no  doubt,  some  young  men  who 
hope  that  I  may  become  their  mistress  hereafter. 
If  they  could  see  what  illness  has  made  of  me  they 
would  fly  from  me  in  alarm. 

Prudence  makes  her  new  year's  presents  with  those 
which  I  have  received. 

The  weather  is  fine  and  frosty ;  and  the  doctor 
tells  me  that  I  may  go  out  in  a  few  days,  if  the  fine 
weather  continues. 

^th  January. 

I  went  out  yesterday  in  my  carriage.  The  weather 
was  magnificent  and  the  Champs  Elysees  crowded. 
It  seemed  like  the  first  smile  of  spring.  Everything 
around  me  appeared  to  wear  the  aspect  of  a  festival. 
I  had  never  imagined  the  existence  in  a  ray  of 
sunshine  of  all  that  I  found  in  it  yesterday  of  joy, 
of  sweetness,  and  of  consolation. 

I  met  nearly  the  whole  of  my  acquaintances — gay 
as  usual,  and  occupied  as  usual  with  their  pleasures. 
How  many  are  happy  and  know  it  not  !    Olympia 

passed  me  in  an  elegant  carriage,  which  M.  de  N 

has  given  her.  She  sought  to  insult  me  by  her  looks. 
She  does  not  know  how  far  I  am  from  feeling  such 
trifles.  A  good-hearted  young  fellow,  whom  I  have 
known  for  a  long  time,  asked  me  if  I  would  come  and 
sup  with  him  and  one  of  his  friends,  who  he  said  was 
very  anxious  to  make  my  acquaintance. 

I  could  but  smile  sadly,  and  offer  him  my  hand 
burning  with  fever.  I  never  saw  a  countenance 
express  more  astonishment  than  his. 

I  came  home  at  four  o'clock,  and  dined  with  some 
appetite. 

This  drive  has  done  me  good. 

If  I  should  be  about  to  recover  ! 

How  the  aspect  of  the  life  and  happiness  of  others 
makes  those  desire  to  live,  who,  perhaps,  only  the 


244     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

day  before,  in  the  solitude  of  their  souls  and  in  the 
gloom  of  the  sick-chamber,  wished  for  speedy  death  1 

loth  January, 
My  hope  of  returning  health  was  only  a  dream. 
I  am  once  more  in  my  bed,  and  my  chest  covered  with 
cataplasms.  Let  me  now  make  an  offer  of  this 
person,  upon  which  so  high  a  value  was  once  placed, 
and  see  at  what  it  would  be  valued  now. 

It  must  be  either  that  we  have  done  a  great  deal 
of  wrong  before  our  birth,  or  because  we  are  to 
enjoy  great  happiness  after  our  death,  that  Heaven 
permits  this  life  to  possess  all  the  tortures  of  an 
expiation,  and  all  the  pains  of  an  ordeal. 

I  continue  to  suffer.  i2^/«  January. 

The  Count  de  N sent  me  some  money  yesterday, 

but  I  did  not  accept  it.  I  want  nothing  from  that 
man.    He  is  the  cause  of  your  not  being  now  near  me. 

Oh  !  our  pleasant  days  at  Bougival,  where  are 
they? 

If  ever  I  leave  this  room  alive,  I  will  make  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  house  in  which  we  lived  together ; 
but  I  shall  never  go  from  it  until  I  am  dead. 

Who  knows  if  I  shall  even  write  to  you  to-morrow  ? 

2$th  January. 
For  eleven  nights  I  have  not  slept  ;  I  have  been 
suffocated,  and  have  believed  at  each  moment  that 
I  was  about  to  die.  The  doctor  forbade  them  to  let  me 
touch  a  pen.  Julie  Duprat,  who  watches  beside  me, 
permits  me,  nevertheless,  to  write  you  these  few 
lines.  Will  you  not  return  before  I  die  ?  Is  all  indeed 
for  ever  ended  between  us  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  if 
you  were  to  come,  I  should  recover.  But  why  re- 
cover ?    To  what  purpose  ? 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     245 

28/A  January. 

This  morning  I  was  awakened  early  by  a  great 
noise.  Julie,  who  slept  in  my  chamber,  rushed  into 
the  dining-room.  I  heard  the  voices  of  men,  against 
which  hers  seemed  to  struggle  in  vain.  She  returned 
weeping. 

The  officers  had  come  to  make  a  seizure.  I  told 
her  to  let  them  accomplish  that  which  they  termed 
justice.  The  bailiff  entered  my  room  with  his  hat 
on  his  head,  opened  all  my  drawers,  made  an  inventory 
of  everything  he  could  see,  and  did  not  appear  even 
to  observe  that  there  was  a  dying  woman  on  the  bed, 
which  fortunately  the  mercy  of  the  law  spares  me. 

He  condescended  to  say  as  he  went  away  that  I 
could  enter  an  opposition  within  nine  days,  but  he 
left  a  man  in  possession  !  What  is  to  become  of  me  ? 
This  scene  has  aggravated  my  malady.  Prudence 
wished  to  ask  your  father's  friend  for  some  money, 
but  I  would  not  permit  it. 

3o/7i  January. 

I  received  your  letter  this  morning.  I  needed  it. 
Will  my  reply  reach  you  in  time  ?  Will  you  see  me 
again  ?  The  happiness  of  this  day  has  made  me  for- 
get all  that  I  have  undergone  during  the  last  six 
weeks.  I  seem  to  be  better,  despite  the  feeling  of 
sadness  under  the  impression  of  which  I  have  replied 
to  you. 

After  all,  we  cannot  surely  be  always  unhappy. 

Then  I  think  that  it  is  possible  that  I  may  not  die  ; 
that  you  may  return  ;  that  I  shall  once  more  see  the 
spring ;  that  you  may  still  love  me ;  and  that  we  may 
recommence  our  life  of  the  past  year. 

Insanity  !  It  is  with  difficulty  that  I  can  hold 
the  pen  with  which  I  v.T:ite  to  you  this  wild  dream 
of  my  imagination. 


246     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

Whatever  happens,  I  love  you  truly,  Armand,  and  I 
should  have  died  long  since,  had  I  not  been  sustained 
by  the  remembrance  of  our  love  and  a  sort  of  vague 
hope  of  once  more  seeing  you  beside  me. 


/[th  February. 

The  Count  de  G has  returned.     His  mistress 

has  played  him  false.  He  is  very  sad  ;  he  was  very 
fond  of  her.  He  came  to  tell  me  all  this.  The  poor 
fellow  is  embarrassed  in  his  circumstances  ;  but  this 
did  not  prevent  him  from  paying  the  officer,  and  dis- 
missing the  man  in  possession.  I  spoke  to  him  of  you, 
and  he  promised  to  speak  to  you  of  me.  I  forgot  at 
that  moment  that  I  had  ever  been  his  mistress,  and  he 
sought  to  make  me  forget  it.  He  is  a  noble-hearted 
fellow. 

The  Duke  sent  to  ask  after  me  yesterday,  and  he 
called  himself  this  morning.  I  cannot  understand 
what  it  is  that  keeps  the  old  man  alive.  He  remained 
for  three  hours  near  me  without  saying  twenty  words. 
He  shed  tears  when  he  saw  me  so  pale.  The  remem- 
brance of  the  death  of  his  daughter  affected  him,  no 
doubt.  He  will  have  seen  her  die  twice.  His  frame 
is  bowed,  his  head  leans,  his  lips  hang  down,  and  his 
eye  is  dim.  Age  and  grief  press  with  double  weight 
upon  his  exhausted  body.  He  has  not  uttered  a 
single  reproach.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  he  was 
gratified  to  see  the  ravage  which  disease  has  made 
in  me.  He  seemed  proud  to  be  still  in  health,  while  I, 
so  young,  am  crushed  by  suffering. 

The  bad  weather  has  returned.  No  one  comes  to 
see  me.  Julie  stays  as  much  as  she  can.  Prudence, 
to  whom  I  can  no  longer  give  so  much  money  as 
formerly,  begins  to  find  pretexts  of  business  for  stay- 
ing away. 

Now  that  I  am  about  to  die — in  spite  of  what  the 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     247 

doctors  have  promised  me,  for  I  have  several,  which 
proves  that  I  am  worse — I  almost  regret  having 
listened  to  your  father.  If  I  had  known  that  I  should 
have  occupied  but  one  year  of  your  life,  I  could  never 
have  resisted  the  desire  to  pass  that  year  with  you, 
and  at  least  I  should  have  died  clasping  the  hand  of  a 
friend.  It  is  true,  nevertheless,  that  if  we  had 
passed  this  year  together,  I  should  not  have  died 
so  soon. 

Heaven's  will  be  done  1 

$th  February. 

Oh  !  come-  -come  Armand  !  I  suffer  horribly  ;  I 
am  about  to  die  !  I  was  so  sad  yesterday,  that  I 
wished  to  pass  anywhere  but  at  home  the  evening 
which  threatened  to  be  as  long  as  the  preceding.  The 
Duke  came  in  the  morning.  It  seems  as  if  the  sight 
of  this  old  man,  whom  death  has  forgotten,  will  only 
make  me  die  the  sooner  ! 

Despite  the  fever  which  consumed  me,  I  caused 
myself  to  be  dressed  and  driven  to  the  Vaudeville 
Theatre.  Julie  put  some  rouge  upon  my  cheeks  or  I 
should  have  looked  like  a  corpse.  I  went  to  the  box 
at  which  I  fixed  our  first  rendezvous  ;  and  I  kept  my 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  stall  which  you  occupied  on  that 
night,  and  which  was  filled  last  evening  by  a  sort  of 
country  youth,  who  laughed  loudly  at  the  nonsense 
uttered  by  the  actors.  .  .  .  They  brought  me  home 
half-dead.  I  coughed  and  raised  blood  all  night.  To- 
day I  am  unable  to  speak,  and  can  hardly  raise  my 
hand.  Oh  !  Heaven,  I  am  about  to  die  !  I  expected 
it,  certainly,  but  I  cannot  reconcile  myself  to 
the  idea  of  suffering  more  than  I  now  suffer, 
and  if  .  .  . 

[From  this  word  the  few  characters  which  Mar 
guerite  had  essayed  to  trace  were  illegible,  and  it  was 
Julie  Duprat  who  had  continued  the  narrative,] 


248     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

i^th  February. 

Monsieur  Arm  and, — From  the  day  when  Mar- 
guerite would  go  to  the  theatre,  she  continued  to  grow 
worse.  She  entirely  lost  her  voice,  and  afterwards 
the  use  of  her  limbs.  What  our  poor  friend  suffers 
it  is  impossible  to  describe.  I  am  not  accustomed  to 
these  sort  of  scenes,  and  I  suffer  from  constant 
alarm. 

How  I  wish  that  you  were  with  us  !  She  is  almost 
always  delirious,  but  delirious  or  sane,  it  is  always 
your  name  which  she  pronounces  when  she  succeeds 
in  uttering  a  word. 

The  physician  tells  me  that  she  cannot  live  long. 
Since  she  has  become  so  very  ill,  the  old  Duke  has  not 
been  again.  He  told  the  doctor  that  the  sight  was 
too  painful  for  him. 

Madame  Duvernoy  does  not  behave  well.  This 
woman,  who  thought  to  obtain  more  money  from 
Marguerite,  at  whose  expense  she  almost  entirely 
lived,  has  assumed  liabilities  which  she  is  unable  to 
meet,  and  seeing  that  Marguerite  can  be  of  no  more 
use  to  her,  she  does  not  even  continue  to  visit  her. 

Everyone  abandons  her.    M.  de  G ,  embarrassed 

by  his  debts,  has  been  obliged  to  return  to  London. 
On  leaving  he  sent  us  some  money.  He  did  all  that 
he  could,  but  a  fresh  seizure  has  been  made,  and  the 
creditors  await  only  her  death  in  order  to  sell  the 
things. 

I  wished  to  use  what  remained  of  my  own  mearis 
to  prevent  these  seizures,  but  the  officer  told  me  it 
was  useless,  for  he  had  other  judgments  against 
Marguerite,  Since  she  is  to  die,  it  is  better  to  abandon 
everything,  than  to  save  it  for  her  family,  who  have 
not  chosen  to  visit  her,  and  who  have  never  loved 
her.  You  cannot  conceive  the  gilded  misery  amid 
which  the  poor  girl  is  dying.  Yesterday  we  had  no 
money.    Plate,  jewellery,  shawls,  all  are  in  pledge  ; 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     249 

and  everything  else  is  sold  or  seized.  Marguerite 
is  still  conscious  of  what  passes  around  her,  and  suffers 
in  mind  no  less  than  in  body.  Large  tears  roll  down 
her  cheeks,  so  pale  and  thin  that  if  you  could  see  her, 
you  would  no  longer  recognise  the  face  of  her  whom 
you  loved  so  much.  She  made  me  promise  to  write 
to  you  when  she  should  no  longer  be  able  to  do  so, 
and  I  write  in  her  presence.  She  looks  towards  me, 
but  is  unable  to  see  me.  Her  sight  is  already  dimmed 
by  the  approach  of  death.  But  she  smiles,  and  all 
her  thoughts  and  her  whole  soul  are  with  you,  I  am 
certain. 

Each  time  that  the  door  opens  her  eyes  brighten, 
and  she  believes  that  it  is  you  who  are  about  to 
enter ;  but  when  she  sees  that  it  is  not  you,  her 
countenance  resumes  its  expression  of  pain,  her  cheeks 
are  moistened  with  a  cold  perspiration,  and  become 
purple. 

i<^th  February,   midnight. 

This  has  been  a  sad  day,  my  poor  Monsieur  Ar- 
mand  !  This  morning  Marguerite  was  unable  to 
breathe  ;  the  doctor  bled  her,  and  her  voice  has 
returned  a  little.  The  doctor  has  counselled  her  to 
see  a  priest.  She  said  that  she  would  consent  to 
it,  and  he  went  himself  to  call  an  abb^  at  Saint  Roch. 

During  this  time.  Marguerite  called  me  to  her 
bedside,  asked  me  to  open  her  wardrobes,  pointed 
out  a  cap  to  me,  a  long  chemise  quite  covered  with 
lace,  and  said  to  me  in  an  enfeebled  voice  : 

"  I  am  going  to  die  after  having  confessed  ;  then 
you  will  dress  me  with  those  things :  it  is  the  caprice 
of  a  dying  woman." 

She  then  embraced  me  crying,  and  added  : 

"  I  can  speak,  but  I  choke  too  much  when  I  speak. 
I  choke  !  give  me  air  !  " 

I  fell  into  tears  ;  I  opened  the  window,  and  a  few 
minutes  after  the  priest  entered. 


250     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

I  went  to  meet  him. 

When  he  knew  at  whose  house  he  was,  he  seemed 
to  fear  to  be  badly  received. 

"  Enter  without  fear,  my  father,"  I  said. 

He  remained  but  a  short  time  in  the  sick  chamber, 
and  he  left  it,  saying  to  me  : 

"  She  has  lived  as  a  sinner,  but  she  will  die  as  a 
Christian." 

A  little  while  after  he  returned,  accompanied  by  a 
chorister  who  carried  a  crucifix,  and  preceded  by 
a  sacristan,  ringing  a  bell  to  announce  that  the 
sacrament  was  being  borne  to  a  dying  person. 

They  all  three  entered  this  bedroom,  which  had 
previously  echoed  so  many  strange  words,  and  which 
was  at  this  hour  but  a  holy  tabernacle. 

I  fell  upon  my  knees.  I  do  not  know  how  long 
the  impression  lasted  which  this  spectacle  produced 
upon  me,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  until  I  reach  the 
same  moment,  any  human  thing  can  affect  me  so 
much. 

The  priest  anointed  with  holy  oil  the  feet,  the  hands, 
and  the  forehead  of  the  dying  woman,  and  Marguerite 
found  herself  read}^  to  leave  for  heaven,  where  she  will 
doubtless  go,  if  God  has  seen  the  trials  of  her  life 
and  the  holiness  of  her  death. 

From  that  time  she  has  not  spoken  a  word,  and  has 
not  made  a  movement.  Twenty  times  I  should  have 
believed  her  dead,  if  I  had  not  heard  her  troubled 
breathing. 

22nd  February,  5  o'clock  p.m. 
All  is  over.  It  became  evident  about  two  o'clock 
this  afternoon  that  Marguerite  was  dying.  Never  did 
a  martyr  suffer  such  tortures,  to  judge  by  the  cries 
which  she  uttered.  Two  or  three  times  she  got 
straight  up  in  the  bed,  as  if  she  wished  to  re-seize 
her  life  which  was  mounting  towards  God. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     251 

Two  or  three  times  also,  she  breathed  your  name, 
then  everything  was  silent,  she  fell  down  exhausted 
upon  her  bed.  Two  silent  tears  coursed  down  from 
her  eyes,  and  she  died. 

Then  I  approached  her,  I  called  her,  and,  as  she 
did  not  answer  me,  I  closed  her  eyes,  and  I  kissed 
her  upon  the  forehead. 

Poor  dear  Marguerite,  I  should  have  wished  to  have 
been  a  holy  woman,  so  that  that  kiss  might  recom- 
mend you  to  God. 

Then  I  dressed  her  as  she  had  prayed  me  to  do  ; 
I  went  to  find  a  priest  at  Saint  Roch  ;  I  burned  two 
v/ax  tapers  for  her,  and  I  prayed  for  an  hour  in  the 
church. 

I  gave  some  money  to  the  poor  for  her. 

I  do  not  know  much  about  religion,  but  I  believe 
that  Heaven  will  know  that  my  tears  were  true, 
my  prayer  fervent,  my  alms  sincere,  and  that  it  will 
have  pity  on  her,  who  dying  young  and  lovely, 
had  but  me  to  close  her  eyes  and  to  wrap  her 
in  a  shroud. 

2Uh  February. 

To-day  the  funeral  took  place.  A  great  many  of 
Marguerite's  female  friends  came  to  the  church. 
Some  shed  tears  with  sincerity.  When  the  pro- 
cession took  the  road  to  Montmartre,  two  men  only 

followed  the  hearse,  the  Count  de  G ,  who  had 

returned  from  London  expressly,  and  the  Duke, 
who  walked  supported  by  two  footmen. 

It  is  from  her  house  that  I  write  you  all  these 
details,  in  the  midst  of  my  tears,  and  before  the 
lamp  which  burns  dimly,  near  to  a  dinner  which  I  do 
not  touch,  as  you  may  well  believe,  but  which  Nanine 
caused  to  be  fetched  for  me,  for  I  have  not  eaten  for 
twenty-four  hours. 

My  life  cannot  retain  these  sad  impressions,  because 


252     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

my  life  does  not  belong  to  me  any  more  than  Mar- 
guerite's belonged  to  her  ;  that  is  why  I  give  you 
all  these  details  upon  the  spot  itself  where  they 
transpired,  in  the  fear  that  if  a  long  space  of  time 
should  elapse  between  them  and  your  return,  I 
should  not  be  able  to  give  them  to  you  in  all  their  sad 
exactitude. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

"  You  have  read  it  ?  "  said  Armand  to  me,  when  I 
had  finished  the  perusal  of  the  manuscript. 

"  I  understand  what  you  must  have  suffered,  my 
friend,  if  all  this  be  true." 

"  My  father  confirmed  it  in  a  letter." 

We  conversed  for  some  time  longer  upon  the  sad 
destiny  which  had  been  thus  accomplished,  and  I 
returned  home  to  take  a  little  rest. 

Armand,  still  sad,  but  solaced  somewhat  by  the 
recital  of  this  narrative,  recovered  rapidly,  and 
we  went  together  to  visit  Prudence  and  Julie 
Duprat. 

Prudence  had  just  become  bankrupt.  She  told  us 
that  Marguerite  was  the  cause  of  it  ;  for  that,  during 
her  illness,  she  had  lent  her  a  great  deal  of  money, 
in  place  of  which  she  had  herself  given  bills 
that  she  could  not  pay,  Marguerite  being  dead 
without  having  repaid  her,  and  not  having  given 
her  any  receipts  to  enable  her  to  make  a  claim 
as  a  creditor. 

By  means  of  this  fable,  which  Madame  Duvemoy 
recounted  everywhere,  she  succeeded  in  drawing 
a  note  of  i,ooo  francs  from  Armand,  who  did  not 
believe  it,  but  who  preferred  appearing  to  do  so,  so 
great  was  his  respect  for  everything  that  had  even 
approached  his  mistress. 

Afterwards  we  went  to  Julie  Duprat,  who  narrated 
to  us  the  sad  scenes  of  which  she  had  been  a  witness, 

253 


254     THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS 

shedding  tears  of  sincere  regret  to  the  memory  of 
her  friend. 

Finally  we  went  to  Marguerite's  grave,  upon  which 
the  early  rays  of  the  April  sun  had  already  caused  the 
first  leaves  to  open. 

There  remained  another  duty  for  Armand  to 
perform — that  of  visiting  his  father.  He  still  wished 
me  to  accompany  him. 

We  arrived  at  C ,  v/here  I  found  M.  Duval  such 

as  I  had  recognised  him  after  the  portrait  drawn  by 
his  son — tall,  dignified,  and  benevolent. 

He  welcomed  Armand  with  tears  of  happiness,  and 
shook  me  affectionately  by  the  hand.  I  soon  per- 
ceived that  the  paternal  sentiment  was  the  govern- 
ing one  in  the  breast  of  the  good  man. 

His  daughter,  Blanche,  had  that  transparency 
of  glance  and  that  serenity  of  smile  which  prove 
that  the  soul  imagines  only  holy  thoughts,  that 
the  lips  utter  only  pious  words.  She  smiled  at 
the  return  of  her  brother — unaware,  the  chaste 
young  girl,  that  far  away,  a  poor  courtesan  had 
sacrificed  her  happiness  on  the  mere  invocation  of  her 
name. 

I  remained  for  a  time  with  this  happy  family,  who 
were  wholly  occupied  with  him  who  was  thus  restored 
to  them. 

I  returned  to  Paris,  where  I  wrote  this  history, 
as  it  has  been  narrated  to  me.  It  has  but  one  merit, 
and  that  one  which  will  perhaps  be  disputed — that 
of  being  true. 

I  do  not  draw  from  this  story  the  conclusion  that 
all  girls  like  Marguerite  are  capable  of  doing  what 
she  did — far  from  it  ;  but  I  had  learned  that  one  of 
them  felt,  during  her  life,  a  real  love,  that  she 
suffered  from  it,  and  that  she  had  died  in  consequence 
of  it.  I  have  told  the  reader  what  I  thus  learned. 
It  was  a  duty. 


THE  LADY  WITH  THE  CAMELIAS     255 

I  am  not  the  apostle  of  vice,  but  I  will  make 
myself  the  echo  of  a  noble  misfortune  wherever  I  hear 
its  voice. 

The  history  of  Marguerite  is  exceptional,  I  repeat  ; 
if  it  had  formed  the  rule,  it  would  not  have  been 
worth  the  trouble  of  writing. 


Maniijactuyed  in  Great  Britain 


MAY  1  5  1986 


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